Of Lions and Serpents
by SwayPippin
Summary: With the death of her parents weighing down upon her, Hermione turns to the only thing that can make her feel, men. How will this effect her life and who can make her feel more? HgDm
1. Chapter 1 Sleepless Nights

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters. They are all property of J.K. Rowling.

A/N: In this story, Dumbledore and Sirius are still alive, and Snape and Malfoy are still in good with the Order.

Chapter 1

Sleepless Night

The repetitious banging of the head board against the wall was enough to drive anyone mad, with its rhythmic bouncing, the creaking of the frame, and the low grunts coming from the occupants of the bed. Ginny Weasley couldn't take it anymore, her pillow could only muffle so much of the sound, she needed sleep and this wasn't helping one bit.

Finally, with one more, loud bang then a creak of the frame, the noise stopped, Ginny could go to sleep, finally.

'_When is this nonsense going to stop? It's been ages, you would think she'd have gotten over this by now… Stopped bringing home random guys… Guess not. I wonder who she's got tonight… No, eew, no I don't.' _She thought as she rolled over onto her side letting her pillow fall behind her head.

Just as Ginny was drifting off to sleep, she heard Hermione's muffled voice from outside in the hall way somewhere. It was difficult for her to make out the words but she strained to hear, hoping to get a clue as to who was leaving their house.

She wasn't sure but she thought she heard, "I'll see you. No, it was fun but you can't stay, sorry."

There was a pause, Ginny distinctly heard the deep low sound of a man's voice but she couldn't make out his words, it seemed he was farther away than Hermione was.

Hermione's voice echoed throughout the house once more. "I don't give a damn; you just make something up like you always do! Goodnight!"

She heard Hermione's door close again and wondered who she was having such a heated chat with. But the thoughts quickly vanished from her mind when she felt her lack of sleep catch up with her.

Hermione plopped down on her, now very messy, bed with a groan. "What a stupid git. Just because he comes over here with me he thinks he can stay. Yeah right, like I'd want him in my bed that long."

She sat on her bed with her legs drawn up into her chest as tears welled up in her eyes. She sniffled and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

'_I'm not going to do this. Not this time!' _

She stood up from her bed and planted her feet hard on the ground. "I'll just go have a shower."

She crossed her room and this time opened her door quietly, and exited. She walked the length of the living room straight into the bath room, turning on the light as she passed the sink. The mirror that hung above the sink reflected a person Hermione did not recognize. She had dark circles under her eyes and the corners of her mouth seemed to always droop into a frown. She looked tired. She felt tired, not only physically but mentally as well.

Upon examining her reflection more closely, she discovered several reddish purple marks scattered down from her neck. Some were brighter than others and some looked fresh. Of course they were fresh, her lover had just left.

She sighed heavily and took off the large button up man's shirt; she was wearing, only to reveal more of the spots and a few faint bruises. The reflection of her body repulsed her even more; she'd lost so much weight in the past year. Her hip bones protruded and her stomach caved in, she looked anorexic.

Deciding she couldn't stand to look at herself anymore, Hermione turned to the shower stall and flipped on the hot water. She was going to take a scalding hot shower to get _his_ stench off of her. Even though she was the one that first initiated her relationships, she couldn't stand to not take a shower afterward. Every time was the same, once they left; she took a long hot shower. There had to be some way to make her feel clean again.

Six o'clock in the morning came all too early for Hermione, her visitor hadn't left until one and her shower lasted until two thirty, she was exhausted. Ginny's incessant banging on her door didn't help the fact either, if anything it succeeded in annoying her.

"Hermione Granger get your ass out of that bed! We're both going to be late to work at this rate and I will not have you as the cause for me getting written up!" Ginny yelled through the hard wood of the door.

"Okay, okay, Gin, I'm up!" Hermione yelled back as she bolted up in bed.

Ginny walked away from Hermione's door, knowing this time she would get out of bed, and into the kitchen. She had already made herself some tea but thought Hermione may like some as a pick-me-up. She was concerned for her friend but dared not say anything about it. She knew it was Hermione's problem and her butting in wouldn't help it.

Hermione dressed and threw her hair back in a loose bun as she started out her bed room door. Walking across the living room, toward the sound of a very angry tea kettle, she passed a full length mirror and stopped to look at herself. She was clad in a navy blue skirt suit with a white shirt under the jacket and navy high heels. She was pleased that this suit didn't show off her too skinny body, instead it showed her lovers' marks.

She searched through the drawers of the table to the left of the mirror and finally found her wand. She had just finished her concealing charm when Ginny rounded the corner from the kitchen with a mug of tea.

Ginny looked over Hermione and offered her the mug in her hands, "Here, I thought you may want this after having such a long night."

Hermione raised her eyebrows, "How'd you know I had a long night?"

Ginny rolled her eyes, "Our walls aren't exactly sound proof you know. And you've got to do something with that bloody bed. I was up half the night."

Hermione grimaced and took the mug from Ginny's out stretched hand, "Sorry, Gin."

Ginny turned around and began walking back into the kitchen, "Don't worry about it. So, who was he anyway?"

Hermione's eyes wandered for a second, "Umm… J something… Jonas… I think."

Ginny didn't say what she was thinking when she replied, "Oh, well, that's a nice name."

Hermione took a sip of her tea, "Yeah."

Ginny left Hermione standing in the living room and continued with her morning pre-work activities. She and Hermione were both working at the Ministry. Hermione was Draco Malfoy's assistant, which was obviously not her idea of a good job, and Ginny worked alongside her dad in Muggle Relations. Hermione went straight from Hogwarts to the Ministry four years ago, and Ginny joined her a year later. Both of them liked working in the Ministry, but Ginny's love for it was greater, after all, she didn't have to work under Draco Malfoy.

"Come on, Gin, we've got to get going. We're going to be late if we don't leave now." Hermione called as she approached the fireplace opposite from the wall where she and Ginny's bed room doors were.

Ginny walked silently toward Hermione but her mind was racing.

'_Oh, it's my fault we're going to be late now, is it? Yeah, it's entirely my fault, of course, why didn't I think of that?' _

Floo powder was one of the most effective modes of transportation into the Ministry; it only took a few seconds. The part that took so long was getting on the right lift that would take you to where you needed to go once inside the Ministry.

When they arrived, Hermione and Ginny both straightened out their suits and headed off in different directions. Ginny was going to find her father, Arthur Weasley, who was some where on the third floor, and Hermione was off to her desk, on the seventh floor.

Hermione had only just sat down at her desk when the door behind her opened. A tall man with pale skin, white blond hair that nearly reached the tops of his ears, and cold silver gray eyes stood behind her with his arms crossed over his chest.

"How nice to see you this morning, Miss Granger." He said with a smirk.

Hermione whipped around in her chair and glared at the man. "A pleasure, I'm sure."

"You had better hold your tongue, Granger, you do work for me, you know." He snapped.

"I'm dreadfully sorry, Mr. Malfoy. How nice to see you this fine morning sir." She said with a go to hell look on her face.

"Much better," he said as he approached her desk. "Now, I have a few things I will need you to do for me today. One I will need you to take this report," he thrust a file under her nose, "to the Minister. When you are done with that, I will have more for you to do. I don't expect this will take long, so hurry back."

She snatched the folder from under her nose, "I am your assistant, not your house elf, Malfoy!"

He took a few steps back from her and said, "And as my assistant, you will assist me in anything I need. Be it taking a report or massaging my feet."

She stood from her desk and walked straight up to his chest. (She was a bit shorter than he was, even with heels on, the top of her head only reached his chin.) "I would never touch your feet."

Draco grabbed her by the shoulders, "But you'd touch any other part of me wouldn't you!"

Hermione brought her arms up in between his and pushed them away from her body. "You only wish I would touch you here."

A smirk played its way across his face as he watched her turn and walk away from him. It amused him to make her so angry. He knew she wanted him, he knew she craved him, and this was often played to his advantage.

As he turned back to his door he whispered to himself, "Ball's in my court, Granger," and closed the door swiftly behind him.

Ginny's thoughts had been correct. It was true; it had been a year since the death of Hermione's mother and father at the hands of Voldemort. One would have thought that Hermione would have found solace in the fact that she had been among those that brought Voldemort to his knees. She fought at the side of Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and his family, Fred, George, Bill, Charlie, Molly, Arthur, Ginny, and Percy. Many other's helped bring Voldemort down, among these, were Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, Sirius Black, Severus Snape, Remus Lupin, Tonks, and Draco Malfoy.

The Order of the Phoenix grew stronger with the alliance of Draco Malfoy. He had gone against his father once he graduated Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He finally realized that his father had been filling his head with lies in the middle of the school year when Albus Dumbledore saved his life. He couldn't take back the things he had done but he could help The Order, he could link himself with them and tell them every thing he knew. But he did this under one condition; The Order would protect him until the end.

Even though Draco Malfoy was now fighting on the side of The Order, only the opinion of Albus Dumbledore changed toward him. Every one else still thought of his as a foul excuse for a human being and one of the biggest prats ever to walk the face of the Earth. But since he was fighting on their side, they put aside their differences and were civil to one another. Severus Snape still played favorites, always praising Draco's work and criticizing that of Harry. But Sirius Black was always the one to point it out when Draco did something wrong, he was, after all, still Harry's god father.

Many of the members of The Order experienced losses, but none as great as that of Hermione's. Other's loses seemed insignificant when compared to hers. Some were badly hurt in battles with Death Eaters, some had their families turn their backs on them, which was Draco's case, and some lost dear friends. None however, lost any of their family members, none but Hermione.

It was Voldemort, himself, who killed off Hermione's mother and father. He hadn't even used magic on them; he used his bare hands and his strength to his advantage. Hermione had wished many times that he had just killed them with magic, their pain would have been less severe. He chose to kill them like a Muggle would have because he knew this would make more of an impact.

Hermione's father, Paul Granger, was nearly beaten to death, but Voldemort, being a merciful Lord, decided to end his suffering by breaking his neck. Her mother, Hilda Granger, was made to watch the death of her husband and only then did Voldemort opt to stab her to death. They died in their home while Hermione and the others were on a wild goose chase for some Death Eaters. It wasn't until the headline in the Muggle news paper that Hermione heard of the events. She wished she had been there, she knew she could have stopped it. At least that's what she told herself. She blamed their deaths solely on herself; even the words of Dumbledore couldn't sway her opinion.

It wasn't until after Voldemort was gone for good, with no hope in coming back because all of his Horcruxes had been destroyed by Harry and Dumbledore, that she fell into her addiction. She only found comfort in the arms of men, and so began the addiction.

At first, she seduced the men nearest her. Harry, Ron, Fred, and George had been among them. It wasn't something she did intentionally; it was more of a subconscious thing. Once Ron and Harry figured out what she was doing, they both refused to ever sleep with her again and advised everyone else to do the same. They were hurt, yes, but they knew it was her way of dealing with her hurt.

Ginny had attempted to talk with Hermione about their friends, but Hermione wouldn't hear it. She didn't want to hear that what she was doing was wrong; it was the only way she could feel anymore. The death of her parents, unsuspecting Muggles, plagued her every thought. She only found comfort when she was in the arms of a man, any man would do, in the early months.

Now, the only person that could fulfill her desires was one she had to constantly lie about, one she could never tell any of her friends about.

She knew by telling Ginny a different name every time she was asked would make her look worse, but it was better than telling the truth about who she was sleeping with. No one would understand. No one would be able to see that this was the only man that could take away her pain.

And this man was Draco Malfoy.

A/N: Ok, now this is my shot at another story. I am hoping to get some reviews, but if I don't get enough, I'm not going to continue. Please let me know what you think and if you want to see more. Sway


	2. Chapter 2 The Only One for Me

Chapter 2

The Only One for Me

By the end of the day, Hermione was fuming. Draco had her running all over the Ministry with errands or turning in reports, this was not what she was there for. Her job was to assist him, yes, but it was to assist him with the writing of reports, taking calls, answering mail, helping with the tracking down of dark wizards, things like that. Being at his every beckon and call was not part of the deal.

It was nearing seven o'clock, which was leaving time for Hermione, when Draco called her into his office. She was reluctant to go, but it was her job.

As she entered the door she said, "Yes, Malfoy?"

She stood in the door way, glaring at the back of his head; he was sitting in his chair which was turned away from the door.

"Come in, Granger, and close the door." He said, still not turning around.

Hermione huffed but did as he asked and walked closer to his desk. "What do you want?"

"I would think you'd have a bit more respect for the man for whom you work." He retorted.

"I do have respect for the man I work for. I think Minister Scrimgeour is a brilliant man." She was already pushing his buttons, not a good thing.

Draco whipped around in his chair and gave Hermione his famous Malfoy smirk. "Oh, I'm sure he is. Tell me, Miss Granger, have you fucked him too? I bet you've fucked at least half of the employees here at the Ministry, tell me, do you like girls too?"

Hermione was taken aback at the straight forwardness Draco had just shown her. "What business is it of yours who I sleep with, Malfoy? And no, for your information, I do not like other females."

He chuckled a bit, "I suppose it isn't my business for whom you spread those legs. I just want to know I'm not going to catch any filthy muggle disease, that's all. It would be a terrible day in Granger-land if I did catch something from you."

"If you're not careful, I won't open them for you anymore." Hermione said with hate dripping from her words.

She was not amused; she didn't find the subject the least bit appealing. She knew that once she got him alone, in the comfort of her house, his attitude would change. It always did. Yes, it is true, they both still despise one another, but their time together, was something many never find. When they are together, both feel like there is no world around them. Every painful memory, every hurtful word falls away and nothing is left but the two of them.

With her words, Draco leapt from his chair, clean across his desk, and was standing inches from her. He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her into his chest with such force; it knocked the breath out of her.

"Tell me that again..." He demanded as he crushed her lips with his.

Hermione kissed back, she knew she had to, she had no other option.

What most don't realize is that once you become involved with a Malfoy, you can never have another. Not only do other men not meet your standards, once you've slept with a Malfoy, but the Malfoy you've slept with claims you as his and if you go against that, there is hell to pay.

Draco broke the kiss and pushed Hermione away from him and yelled at her, "and you will regret the day you were born. You are mine! Do you hear me? Mine! There is nothing you can do about it. You may be a disgusting mud blood whore, but you're mine and no other man will ever touch you."

Hermione stumbled back from Draco's rough push; she regained her balance and bowed her head as Draco's words cut her to the core. She knew she was disgusting, and that she was a disappointment, he reminded her of that almost daily, but this time, something happened. Something in the tone of his voice made the words cut deeper than ever before.

In the time she wasn't sleeping with Draco, he always made her feel insignificant. He had a way of making her life seem worse than she already thought it was. But when they were together, when they were having sex, because that's all it was, she understood how much he needed her and her clarity of how much she needed him was found. He could be an abusive bastard, but during their sex-capades, he was never abusive. He was almost gentle. It almost seemed like he cared enough to only do the things Hermione wanted him to, but this is Draco Malfoy, he didn't care about a filthy mud blood like her. Did he?

But right now, they weren't in her bed; they were in his office, so he was still just as big a self-centered prat as always. The façade he wore when they were at the office, or any where but in the bed together, was one that Hermione wished he would rid himself of. After all, he was not Lucius Malfoy, he had defied his own father's name to help The Order; one would think that would be a life altering event.

She gazed up at him from behind the hair he had caused to fall into her face, tears in her eyes, but she stayed silent. She knew what would happen if she made him mad.

He brushed his hair back with one hand and put the other in his pocked. The look on his face almost looked like that of concern or sorrow.

Almost.

The corner of his mouth twitched into a sort of evil sneer. "Granger, don't you try and fight it, we both know I have what you need."

She shook her head and brought her hands up to her face, brushing the hair away as she spoke "You, Malfoy, are an insufferable ass hole, a self-centered, egotistical, power hungry prat!"

With that she turned to walk out of the office, but again, she was stopped.

Draco lunged across the room at her and grabbed her hard by the arm, slinging her back against the wall. She was being crushed under him; it felt as if every bone in her body was going to break.

He pushed his weight harder against her and lowered his face to her ear. "You may want to watch how you speak to me if you value your life in anyway. I may be all of those things, but I am also the guy you come running to when you start feeling down about your dead mummy and daddy. Am I or am I not the one, the only one, who knows just how to fuck your problems away?"

His breath was hot and moist on her ear and caused her to shiver involuntarily.

He took in a deep breath and continued, "I suggest you get on home now, Granger, and don't worry your pretty little head, I will be coming over tonight, and I will get what I want."

Hermione's body trembled as he stepped away. The tears that had begun building up in her eyes leaked out and she wiped them away angrily, not wanting him to see her cry.

She was reminded of something her mother had told her back in her first year at Hogwarts, when she wrote home and told her about Ron making her cry.

Her mother's voice echoed in her head _'Never let them see you cry.'_

"Fuck you, Malfoy!" She screamed, though he was only a few feet from her.

This was apparently the wrong thing to do at this moment in time and she automatically regretted it when his right hand came crashing down on her left cheek. With the force of the blow, her head sailed to her right and her cheek hit the door.

"You will fuck me!" He bellowed. "And you're going to like it, just as you always do."

He took a step closer to her and forced her hand from the cheek he had just struck and slammed his lips into hers causing her head to hit the door behind her with a loud bang.

"I will be there. And do try to not be crying, tears are not flattering on you at all."

He stepped back and straightened his shirt, "I always get what I want, Granger."

A few more tears leaked from the corners of Hermione's eyes as she fumbled to find the door know, all the while staring into those piercing grey eyes that bore into hers.

As soon as she found the door knob, she turned it and slipped through the door, away from Draco. She didn't want to think about what had just happened, she just wanted to get home and run scalding water over the places he had touched her.

Deciding it was best not to wait for Ginny; Hermione hurried down to the main lobby of the Ministry and stepped into the fireplace with a pinch of floo powder. With a flash of emerald flames and a little smoke, she was gone.

Draco paced the floor of his office once Hermione was gone. He didn't like the fact that she possessed the power to make him lose control like that. He wasn't an abusive man, quite the contrary; Hermione was the only woman he had ever struck. Hitting a woman was not something Draco prided himself on. Yes, he was every name Hermione had called him and so much more, however, he wasn't a coward. Only cowards hit women.

'_Why does she have to be such a bitch? Why can't she just do what I tell her to? Why does she have to hold this whole holier than thou attitude? She is no better than I am, if anything she's worse. Who knows how many men she's fucking…?' _

A wave of anger consumed him at his thoughts. How could she be sleeping with other men while she was sleeping with him? Even he wasn't doing that. It's true, he let her think she was one among many, but in truth, she was the only one. She had been the only one the whole seven months they had been engaged in such lurid acts of self accomplishment. Being with her made him feel powerful, but more than that, it made him feel useful.

Being raised with a father such as his, he never felt like he was good for anything. Lucius often didn't need a reason to beat his wife, or his son. Many nights, Draco was awoken by Lucius pulling him from his bed by the hair of his head, and then beaten for hours. He was always willing to take the beatings, as long as his mother wasn't getting hit; he knew he was good for something. He was a distraction for Lucius. If he, Lucius was busy with Draco, he couldn't hit his wife, and this made all of the bruises and the cuts worth while, for Draco.

_Draco's POV_

"Fuck you Malfoy!" She screamed at me.

Fuck me? I'll show the bitch fuck me.

It was only after I felt the stinging in my palm that I knew what had happened. I hit her, again. Why must I do this? What sort of sorcery is that that she has over me? I am not a violent man, let me correct myself, I am not physically violent toward women, not normally, that is one trait I did not inherit from my father. Seeing him beat my mother throughout my whole life, I knew that was not the kind of man I wanted to be. But look at what she has forced me to become. What kind of man am I, if I am even a man?

I couldn't take back the slap, once you act upon an impulse, all is said and done. There's no taking it back. There's no 'I'm sorry' that shit doesn't cut it. What do you say, 'I'm sorry I just busted your lip and blacked your eye; here let me buy you a necklace?' Any woman who would ever believe that is a total dim-whit.

I don't mean to lose my temper, I truly don't. It's not something I wake up in the morning and ponder. I don't say 'hmm, I think I'm going to beat up on Granger today.' No, it's just something that happens. It's like I am taken over momentarily by some unseen force and I just do it. I would take it all back if I could. But I can't. As I've said, I can't tell her I'm sorry, because if I said that, she wouldn't believe it anyway.

I was so angry with her. The only think I could think to say to that was, "You will fuck me! And you're going to like it, just as you always do."

I didn't even really say it. I screamed it at her.

Like I would ever make her do it if she didn't want to. What kind of a monster am I?

It was her that first initiated it anyway. She was the one crawling all over my dick. She wanted it. Hell, I wanted it too. But it's gone too far now. Too far.

She's got me under her spell, speaking metaphorically, of course. There's something about her, something I can't quite put my finger on. But it's there.

I scoffed at myself and continued to wear a track in the carpet in front of my door. Honestly, I half expected her to come back.

'_I will be there. I am always there. God! Get out of my head, bitch!'_

I hit myself in the forehead with my, still stinging, palm, trying to rid myself of these thoughts. But it didn't help, it never does.

She is a filthy disgusting mud blood, why does she have a hold on my like this? Mud blood, ha ha, there's something my father engraved in my skull. Am I really any better than anyone else, coming from a pure blood family?

Is blood really that important?

No, I really don't see what relevance that holds. Lord Voldemort is dead; the war is over, why should blood concern anyone anymore? Why did it matter anyway? He, Lord Voldemort, was half blood anyway; his mother was a squib and his father a muggle. Mud blood, pure blood, my ass.

I guess old habits die hard.

_End Draco's POV_

Hermione arrived home only fifteen minutes before Ginny, but she was already in the shower. She couldn't let Ginny see her. She felt so dirty, so… used and unclean.

Ginny burst through the unlocked bathroom door, steam from the shower hitting her in the face, "Hermione, why didn't you wait for me? I had to ask Malfoy where you'd gone off to. He's in a right foul mood."

Hermione sank against the shower wall. _'Great, just what I needed to make my day better, a pissed off Malfoy.' _

"Are you listening to me?" Ginny said tapping her foot on the tile of the bathroom floor.

Hermione cleared her throat, "Yeah, Gin, Malfoy, bad mood, got it."

Ginny sighed, "But you didn't answer my question. Why didn't you wait on me?"

Hermione turned to rinse the shampoo from her hair as she answered, "Sorry, Gin, I wasn't thinking. I had a bad day and just wanted to get home and take my shower."

"Oh…" Ginny took a seat on the toilet. "You want to talk about it?"

She knew what Hermione's answer would be, but none the less, she offered, that's what friends did, isn't it?

"There isn't anything much to talk about really. Malfoy was just being himself, that's all." Hermione answered.

Ginny stood up; she wondered why she had even thought Hermione would want to talk to her anyway, why did she waste her time sitting down? "A self-centered prat, no doubt. Hey, I'm going out with Harry tonight, I think Ron's coming, you wanna join? They're going to be here in about ten minutes."

Hermione froze in mid-rinse, "Umm… No thanks Gin. I'm just going to snuggle up with a good book and a cup of tea tonight."

Ginny rolled her eyes and stepped out into the hall way, the steam from the shower following her, "Okay then. I'll just tell them maybe next time."

"Yeah, maybe next time." Hermione called after Ginny as she shut the door.

She really didn't have any intentions of going next time, or the time after, or the time after that. She really felt bad for using all of her friends, and the only way she could keep from being uncomfortable, was by staying as far from them as she could. Truthfully, she knew how they all talked about her behind her back, she knew how worried they were, but she couldn't bring herself to face any of them. Not any time soon. She had seduced and taken advantage of every one of Ginny's brothers, and Harry. Given the chance she probably would have slept with Sirius and Remus as well, but they, being older and wiser, didn't give her the chance.

Remus once told her he understood her pain but what she was doing was unhealthy. Sirius too had tried to talk with her about it, but she wasn't going to hear it. She didn't want their pity. What she didn't realize was that they didn't pity her, they only wanted to help. But they wouldn't help her in the way she wanted them to, so she found no use for them.

Hermione deliberately stayed in the shower for an extra twenty minutes, to make sure Ron, Ginny, and Harry were on their way to where ever it was they were going.

She stepped out of the shower and wiped the tiny droplets of condensation from the mirror so she could stare at herself. Again, her reflection repulsed her, only this time, she had a distinct bruise on her left cheek, courtesy of Draco Malfoy.

She caressed the bruise lightly with her fingertips and gave a loud sigh.

'_Why do I let him do this to me? What makes him so bloody special? Never in my life would I have put up with this from any man… If he hits you, he's not a man; he's nothing more than a coward.'_

Her thoughts were interrupted buy someone pounding on her front door. She knew who it was, but he wasn't supposed to be there so early. She wasn't even dressed yet.

As the pounding continued, Hermione pulled on her dressing robe and shook some of the water from her brown mane as she approached the door.

Draco stood in front of her, his hands in his pockets, when she opened the door. As always, he had that damned smirk etched on his face. (Hermione wished that one time, just one time; she could wipe that smirk off his face.)

Hermione simply stood in front of him with one hand on the door knob and the other clinging to the robe around her.

"Aren't you going to invite me in, Granger?" He said through his smirk.

Hermione rolled her eyes and stepped back, "Please come in."

Draco stepped over the threshold and into the living room. As Hermione closed the door behind him she stood with her back against it. She didn't know what to expect from him, she'd only left him forty minutes ago, and she hadn't left on a good note.

He looked around the room then casually turned to face her. "I do hope I didn't interrupt anything."

She shook her head. 'N—No, You didn't interrupt anything; I was just getting out of the shower."

He nodded in understanding. "Good then, now I know you don't have any other man's stench on you."

She sighed. His smart ass attitude had already started and he hadn't been there for even a minute yet. "You know there isn't any other man."

Draco walked a few circles around Hermione and she shuddered, she didn't like the feeling she was getting, her stomach knotted up and a lump rose in her throat. "No, I don't know that. But I really hope you don't think you're the only… person, I have been with. If you do, you are sadly mistaken."

He was lying through his teeth, but she didn't know that. He did, after all, have to keep up appearances. He wasn't going to have her go around thinking that he was being loyal to him.

Hermione spun around to face him, as he was just walking behind her again. "Well, if you're so popular with the ladies, why don't you just go and fuck one of your sluts?" She almost yelled at him, but she caught herself, she knew what happened when she made him mad, it was much the same as it had been earlier, only worse at times.

He stopped when she turned to face him and gave a sort of cackle. "No, Granger, you're the only slut for me."

A/N: Ok, there you have it. I must say, I am a bit disappointed in my low numbers of reviews, having had 130 hits. I do hope if you all want to see more, you will review. And if not... then not, I guess. Sway


	3. Chapter 3 I'm Staying

Chapter 3 

I'm Staying

Hermione really wasn't in the mood to fight with him, not tonight. Not after the fight they had had earlier in his office, so she gave him what he wanted. It wasn't like he'd come there to have a nice little chat with her, they both knew that. It was nothing more than a release for the both of them.

Even after the fights they had, which were sometimes worse than others, Hermione always went through with sleeping with him. She didn't really mind his outbursts, those, she thought, were what made her feel the most. When his hand collided with her body, she felt alive. It wasn't a good feeling and she always cried, but at least she knew she was still alive. She wasn't dead on the outside, like she felt she was on the inside.

Hermione knew Ginny would be out most of the night, if not the entire night, with Harry and Ron, and she guessed it was a good thing. She didn't need the three of them walking in on this. She could only imagine what they would say. And the looks that she was sure would be on their faces were not looks she ever wanted to see. Not from them. She had disappointed so many of the people she loved in the past year, she didn't think she could deal with disappointing these three again. It was bad enough her biggest let down was toward her parents, she let them down by not being there when they needed her, not saving them from Voldemort.

Draco was probably her best kept secret and she rather liked the idea of keeping it that way. No one needed to know that she had lowered herself to sleeping with the enemy.

It's true, Draco was a better man, in the since that he switched sides for the war, but the opinions of Ron, Ginny, and Harry, hadn't changed, they all still thought of him as a prat, and an overly arrogant scum bag. The only one of the three that had even changed his opinion in the slightest bit was Harry, and that was only during the war. Once the war was over and Voldemort was dead, everything went back to the way it was before. Draco started up with the jeers and the nonsense, as did Ron and Harry. It didn't seem to matter that they fought on the same side, he was still Malfoy.

Draco rolled off the top of Hermione and lay beside her in her bed, panting, as was she. Neither of them spoke to one another for several long minutes, but it was Draco who first broke the silence.

"What the hell happened to you, Granger, you've got bruises all over you. You know, purple spots aren't exactly attractive."

Hermione propped herself up on her elbows and stared at him blankly. "What do you think happened to me, Malfoy?"

He turned his head toward her and gave a slight shrug, "I don't know that's why I asked you. I don't usually go and ask a question for which I already have answer."

She rolled her eyes and scoffed. "You happened to me, Malfoy."

He sat up in the bed so quickly one would think a fire had been lit under him, "What! I'm not the cause for those."

Hermione's mouth fell open and she gaped at him. "Well then." She moved her hair out of her face revealing the right side, "How do you explain this one?"

He leaned closer to her to get a better look then quickly looked away. "I didn't do that."

Hermione was at a loss for words. How could he be denying he was the cause for all of her bruises? It wasn't logical; he knew he had hit her before, why was it that he didn't believe he had caused the discoloration of her skin? It wasn't like she did them herself.

"Oh, no, I'm making it all up. I want you to feel sorry for me because I've gotten all of these mysterious bruises." She snapped, letting her hair fall back into place.

Draco slowly rotated his head on his shoulders, causing his neck to pop several times. "There's no way I've done those. I've never hit you _that_ hard."

She laughed, "Right, any time you strike another human being, it isn't hard. Your fists are feather light, Malfoy. Honestly, and you call yourself smart."

Draco was beginning to lose his patients with her, having not gotten over the spat they had earlier. "Oh yes, I've forgotten, you are the bookworm, is that why you work under me, Granger? Is that the reason you get to run around the Ministry doing errands for me? I am not the stupid one here, I think we both know that."

Hermione's voice cracked as she argued, "I'm not stupid, Malfoy."

He didn't seem to hear her as he continued, and if he did, he didn't pay ant attention to her words. "I'm not the one who's done it damn it. I know how hard I've hit you and it's never been enough to causes bruises like that." He pointed his finger at her face as he spoke; making it clear which one he was referring to.

Hermione stood up from the bed and pulled her dressing robe in. "That's right, Malfoy, I've pissed someone else off in the time it took you to get here and they did it."

Draco stood up from the bed as well, still in the nude, and flexed the muscles in his jaw. "You probably have, I don't doubt it was the other man you fucked just before I got here. You do have a way of pissing people off, don't you Granger. I don't know why I constantly let a whore such as you make me angry, I honestly do not."

Hermione threw her arms up in the air. "Right, because I need another man that hits me. Why would I ever want another man to hit me when you seem to enjoy it so much? Far be it from me to rob you of such a pleasure."

Draco couldn't control himself anymore. He didn't want to have been the person that inflicted such marks on her beautiful skin. He didn't want to be the kind of monster that got his kicks from beating on women. But again, his blood was boiling and there was no stopping it.

He darted from his side of the bed to hers and grabbed her, tightly, by the arms, just below her shoulders. "I'm not the one that's done it god damn it! Why do you do this? Do you think I like to hit you? Do you honestly think I get off on it?"

With that he slapped her with the back of his hand and sent her sailing sideways onto the bed.

'_Oh god, what have I done? Not again.' _He thought seconds after watching Hermione's frail body land on the bed.

She grasped her cheek, the same one he struck earlier, in her hand and looked up at him from her place on the bed. The tears in her eyes were visible, more than visible, as she spoke. "Get out."

"H-Gra--Granger, I didn't mean to…" Draco stuttered as he gazed down upon her.

The relization of what had just happened played over in his head. He hadn't meant to hit her, he never wanted to hit any woman, but she made him lose control. She always made him lose control.

She choked back her tears and pushed her hair out of her face. "I said get out!"

Draco closed his eyes and shook his head from side to side as he bent down to pick up his boxers and his pants. He slipped them on, not looking at Hermione, and grabbed his black button up shirt, only pulling it on, not buttoning it.

He sat down on the edge of her bed, so that he could slide his feet into his shoes and sighed. "Granger… You just make me so angry. I didn't mean to hit you."

She sat up and pulled her robe tighter around her body. "So what, now you're going to apologize? Do you think everything's going to be okay between us now? Does it make you feel like a man to hit me, then apologize for it? Why do you care now, you never apologized before!"

He snapped his head around toward her. "See, there you go again. Why do you do that! Why must you push my buttons, do you like seeing me angry like this? Does it turn you on when I hit you? I knew you liked fucked up things, but even this is too fucked for me."

She stood up and again tugged at her robe. "Yes, I long to piss you off, Malfoy! That is the one true reason I am here, solely to piss you off. Oh, yes, it turns me on when you hit me, there's nothing like being slapped to really get my motor running."

He shook his head and stared up at her. "What in fuck's name is wrong with you? I didn't come here to beat you, I came here to give you what you want, and this is what you make me do?"

She stepped closer to where he sat on the edge of her bed. "So it's my fault is it?"

The Malfoy smirk stretched on his face, "Yes, it's your fault I get so angry."

Without a second's thought, Hermione raised her hand and let it collide with the left side of Draco's face. His head did not turn like hers did, however, it didn't budge. The fact that it didn't give under the force of her slap, only made the stinging in Hermione's hand worse, it felt as if she had plunged her hand into a cauldron full of a scalding potion.

She gritted her teeth as Draco rose to his feet and pushed his face directly into hers, only stopping a few centimeters away. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut; awaiting the blow she knew was coming. She had never struck him back, not once in the whole seven months their little charade had been going on. She knew this was bad.

He did not hit her however; he leaned in and lightly kissed her cheek. "You see, your hitting me was my fault, just as my hitting you is your fault."

He backed away from her, ignoring the tingling in his face, determined not to let her see that he had felt her slap. Mentally he said, _'Ouch! Bitch has got a mean right swing.'_

Hermione opened her eyes in disbelief. She was sure her actions would have awarded her the beating of her life, but to her dismay, there wasn't any sign of anger on Draco's face. A lonely pink handprint was the only thing visible. Not even his eyes showed any hint of an angry emotion, they were just as silvery grey as ever and seemed to look straight through her. His eyes always made her shiver, it was just spooky to see them staring back at you. It was like they had a mind of their own, made their own plans.

She didn't want to let her guard down; she just knew he was waiting for that. She stood her ground and glared up at him.

He blinked lazily. "I'm not going to hit you, Granger."

Hermione glanced around the room, in disbelief, still she didn't say anything.

He gave a soft chuckle, which was unlike his usual hateful one, "I've told you, I don't mean to do it. It's just something that happens to me. I've never hit another woman."

Hermione didn't know what to say. She had been warned by him, many times, in his fits of rage, to never question his authority. And that's exactly what she had just done. She had challenged the devil that stood before her, and he had not even so much as flinched.

Draco shifted his weight from one foot to the other, "If you still wish me to go, I will not intrude upon you any longer. This is your house after all."

Hermione shrugged, she was truly at a loss for words. Did Draco Malfoy just attempt to apologize for being an all too heavy-in-the-hands son of a bitch? No. This was a trick. He is Draco Malfoy, the same Draco Malfoy that had hit her too many times before to count; the one that had laughed in her face as she lay before him crying. This is the man that had threatened to take her life on numerous occasions, the same one that threatened her only a few hours before.

She shrugged. "I don't know."

He furrowed his brow, "It's not like we enjoy each other's company, either you want to get down to business again, or you don't. It's as simple as that. Yes. Or. No."

Hermione swallowed hard. What if this was a test, what if he was going to go into one of his fits of fury if she told him to leave? It was he who told her he would have her anytime he wanted, no matter what she said.

"I-I guess."

Draco glared at her with one eyebrow raised, "You guess… What?"

She brushed her hair out of her face again, "No, I don't want you to go."

Draco's smirk found its way across his face again as he kicked off his shoes and tore his shirt off, dropping it at his feet. He bit his bottom lip as he approached Hermione and said, "Take the robe off and come here."

Hermione let her hands fall away from the robe and slowly pulled her arms from it, laying it down on the bedside table, she walked toward Draco, shivering slightly. Instinctively she quivered when Draco's hands grasped her shoulder. But this time, his hands didn't dig into her skin, this time he was touching her, he wasn't grabbing her.

"Malfoy, what are you doing?" Her voice cracked as she spoke into his chest.

He looked down at her, his grey eyes soft, "Touching you?"

She searched his face for any sign of foul play, but saw none. "Yes, touching me. Why?"

His face stiffened, "Granger, I do have to touch you in order to fuck you. I don't think it would be an easy task to accomplish with out my touching you at one time or another."

Hermione closed her eyes and shook her head for only a second before leaning up and kissing him roughly on the lips. While she kissed him she thought to herself, _'Of course. There's that Malfoy charm. You have to touch me to fuck me, what was I thinking. Stupid bitch, you're just trying to see something that's not there. Anything to take your mind off this disgusting ass hole whom you let take control of you. You're a disgusting excuse for a woman, and you deserve every beating he gives you, and so much more.' _

After a few moments of heated kissing, Draco picked Hermione up by the waist and laid her down on the bed in front of him as he pulled off his pants and boxers. This took her by surprise, she half expected him to toss her onto the bed as he usually did.

Their sexual activity seemed to last forever, but Hermione wasn't sure why. Normally Draco rushed it, he was not one to make it a long and drawn out session, twenty-five or thirty minutes was all he was willing to devote, but this time, it had been at least an hour. Hermione wasn't complaining, after all, he was giving her what she wanted.

This time, Hermione had he arms at ninety degree angles on either side of her head and Draco's was propping himself up by holding them there. He had a hold on her wrists, but it wasn't uncomfortable for her, and for the first time, she thought she could get away from him if she had the urge. But that urge wasn't there. She didn't want him to stop; she didn't want him to ever stop.

Everything that had happened between them earlier, feel out of her mind. Her bruises didn't hurt under Draco's hands, her face no longer stung where she had been slapped. She was at peace with herself and with him. She almost didn't want it to end. She thought; if this could go on forever, she would never have to worry about anything again. She wouldn't have to spill useless tears over her mother and father. She wouldn't have to lie to her friends. She wouldn't have to face all of their disgusted looks, or the whispers. He wouldn't hit her anymore. Everything would be alright.

She didn't hear the repetitious banging of the headboard against the wall or the feeble creaking of the bed's frame underneath their weight. She feared for a moment that she'd gone deaf. But she heard a groan escape Draco's lips and realized not only that she could still hear but also that he had groaned. He made a noise, not just any noise, he groaned….

She'd had her eyes closed the whole time they had been having sex, but once she heard his groan, she opened them. To her surprise grey eyes were staring down in to hers. He was actually looking at her. Often she wondered who he thought about when he was having sex with her, because he kept his eyes shut tight, but this time, they were open.

Her eyes widened but she didn't say anything. This was the first time she thought he had ever actually looked at her. (In truth, he looked at her more than she knew.) Seeing that he had noticed her eyes were open, she quickly shut them again and.

Draco took in a ragged breath as he continued his thrusting, "Open your eyes."

Hermione obeyed his request, and opened her eyes, to find his grey one staring down at her yet again. She was about to open her mouth to speak when Draco's mouth covered hers. His kiss was deep and filled with every emotion he had ever felt toward her, as was hers. There was so much to be said, but the kiss said it all, there was no need for words. Anger, hate, passion, fear, loathing, need, desire, every single feeling was there, she felt so much coming from the kiss but there was something that she couldn't quite put her finger on.

As it is said, all good things must come to an end.

With one more hard thrust then a groan, Draco had finished and collapsed on top of her. He lay there, for several long minutes, which did make Hermione uncomfortable. He wasn't being himself at all tonight. If this had been any other night, he would have rolled off of her and made some snide remark about how bad the sex was, or how trashy she was, but never would he have laid on her.

He sighed heavily and brought one of his hands up to wipe the sweat from his brow. "Damn."

'_Damn?' _Hermione thought.

She swallowed and tried to blow Draco's hair out of her face with out him knowing, but it didn't workout. The stream of cool air brushed against his white blond hair and hit him in the forehead.

"What the hell are you doing?" He said as he wiped the spot Hermione's breath had hit.

He wasn't as repulsed as his tone had made him out to be, he was actually very ticklish and the air had caused him an involuntary reflex; his hand brushing away the nonexistent being that tickled his forehead.

She grimaced, "Sorry… It's just; your hair is in my face."

He pushed himself up, using her wrists as leverage, which made her body sink further down into the mattress. "All you had to do was say something, I would have gotten up."

He rolled over to his left and settled down atop the blankets. Hermione was very uncomfortable and confused by now, so she decided to get out of bed and get dressed. She was sure he'd be leaving soon and she wouldn't have to get undressed again. He never stayed for long after they had finished with each other. She stood up from the bed with out a word, walked over to her dresser and was about to pull open the top drawer when Draco's words broke the silence, for the second time.

"What are you doing? Did I tell you to get up and put clothes on?"

His tone wasn't quite angry, but it did startle Hermione.

She whipped around, sending her brown curls over her shoulder, "I-I thought you would be leaving soon. I just wanted to put some clothes on for when Ron, Harry, and Ginny come back."

He smirked, but it was different some how from his usual smirk. "Get your ass back in this bed! It's not like they've not seen you naked before, I'm sure weasel's dying to see it again anyway."

Hermione's cheeks flushed as she bowed her head and gazed down at her feet. She didn't raise her head until she was back in the bed beside Draco. When she looked up, Draco was staring at her.

"Besides, I'm staying."

Hermione looked at his face, shocked, but dared not tell him no. She didn't want another fight. He was already behaving strangely; she didn't want to press her luck. The previous night was different because they hadn't had a fight, but tonight, she knew better. He was in some sort of strange mood and she didn't want to make it worse. Even though she knew questions would be asked, she still wouldn't tell him no. Besides, no one would know he was there; he'd be in her room. She could always sleep on the couch, it was better than being in there with him. He surely didn't want her there anyway.

A/N: Ok, after much anticipation, and site difficulties, I have updated. I have really gotten into this one, and I hope you all still like it. Please let me know what you think! Sway


	4. Chapter 4 Too Many Questions

Chapter 4

Too Many Questions

_Draco's POV _

I don't know why I decided to stay, I guess the thought of going back to my empty, overly large mansion, just wasn't appealing to me. I do have to be grateful for my father's over indulgence in the finer things in life, he is the reason I have such a large house. Only problem is, it's empty, all except me and the few house elves I still have. I think I'd rather be here…

It's not like I enjoy the company of this Mud Blood bitch. But if I get the urge to fuck her, she won't be far away.

I have found, lately, such urges have been coming more frequently. Like in the office, I want to grab her and slam her against the wall sometimes, and give it to her good. What the hell is wrong with me? She's a whore and I know it. But I will say this, she had better not ever let me find out she's fucking someone else. If I get some sort of disease from her, she's going to have more problems than a dead mum and dad.

She has some sort of hold on me and I don't like it. This is total rubbish! I'm the one that's supposed to have the power, me, not someone like… her. I think I'm slipping.

What the hell is she doing?

"What part of I'm staying didn't you understand? If I want you to get up, I will tell you to do so. Where were you going anyway? Weasel isn't here, sorry to disappoint." It was obvious she was up to something, getting out of bed like that.

She shuddered, ha, my voice makes her cringe, "I—I—was going to go sleep on the—the-- couch. I tho--"

That's when I cut her off. "You thought what? See that's your problem, you think too much. You will not be going to sleep on the couch; you're going to keep your ass right here on this bed," I slammed my hand down on the mattress beside me to emphasize my words, "If you go and sleep in there, someone is bound to ask questions. And believe me when I tell you, it would not be good for any of your careers if I was found in your bed."

I'm right, you know, since they all work at the Ministry, with me, I could have their jobs in a second, no questions asked. The Minister is partial to me, Potter too, but more so to me. I've got the Malfoy charm and what's potter got, that damned scar? Voldemort's dead, that scar means absolutely dick now.

Besides, I was among those that brought down Lord Voldemort, which makes me just as special as Potter or the Weasel's. As if I wasn't already special. I'm a Malfoy, damn it! That still means something. I'm still pure blood.

But I guess I'm not much of a pure blood if I'm fucking this filthy mud blood whore… There I go again. 'Pure blood' 'Mud blood' I'm never going to learn. Fuck that, why should I change? There's no reason for it. At least I know it gets to her.

'The boy who lived,' my ass. I lived, I'm a boy. I bet Potter still just loves the attention. 'Oh Potter, great Harry Potter, you lived once and you've done it again!' Blimey, that's total shit! He didn't fight alone. We were all right there, Me… me… ah, Snape, that blood traitor Black, the werewolf, the old man, that great oaf, the slut, the whole miserable Weasel family, it's not like he was alone against all of Voldemort's army. But I bet that's what he'd like the whole of the wizarding world to think. Great Harry Potter.

She's back in the bed, seems like she's miles away from me. Who would want her nasty mud blood germs anyway? I sure don't.

Look at me fighting with myself like some child. I'm a grown ass man damn it!

That's it, I'm going to sleep. I can't take this shit, not right now, not ever. This is stupid! Bloody stupid! Honestly! Come now, Draco, she isn't worth it. She is beneath you.

Ha ha, yeah, she'd be beneath me if I wanted her to be right now.

At this thought, I began twisting a few strands of my hair around my finger, and then I realized what I was doing. _'I'm not some gitty school girl.' _

I sighed at myself, where do I come up with this shit? I would never take her against her will. I may be abusive, at times, but I would never do that.

Merlin, I'm tired.

_End Draco's POV_

Hermione had joined Draco, back in the comfort of her bed, but for some reason, it didn't seem as comfortable as she remembered, not with him in there. The both of them were still as naked as the day they were born, but Hermione, being a bit scared and intimidated, was shivering, though it wasn't exactly cold in her room.

Apparently, Draco noticed her shivering. "Get under the god damn blanket if you're cold. I'm not going to be able to get to sleep with you making the bed vibrate."

Hermione shifted her eyes around the room; not wanting to look into his face for fear that his grey eyes may tear her in half. She did as he had said and turned over on her side as she scooted under the covers and put her back to him.

She was determined to stay as far away from him as possible. It was bad enough he had invited himself to stay in her bed, but she was not going to sleep next to him. Though there was only so much bed there. She was on the edge and she knew if she turned the wrong way, just once, she would be in the floor.

The look on his face could have been that of disgust or surprise, maybe both. But he didn't say anything to her, he, in return, turned over on his side, with his back to her, and pulled the covers over himself.

It was like a game between two small children. Neither of them wanted to be close to the other, but Draco wasn't going to let either of them get up. That didn't make sense. He should have just gone home, but for some reason, he wanted to stay.

Maybe it was because he didn't want to be alone in his house and the company of Hermione seemed more appealing than that of no one. Or maybe he did want to be there, even if he wasn't really wanted. That was just a bonus. In his eyes anyway.

Hermione desperately wanted him to just leave, like he did every other night, but tonight she wasn't going to get her way. As it would seem, she didn't get her way with him much anyway. Why was this new?

_Hermione's POV _

What the hell is he doing barking off orders like I'm his dog? Wait… I guess I am. I sure as hell obey him like a dog would. What have I reduced myself to?

I don't want him here, but at the same time, I don't want him to leave. I don't want to be alone in this house, not tonight. I guess if he's my only company, it's better than being alone. Where the hell is Ginny when I need her?

She's out with Harry and Ron, just like I could have been. But no, stupid me had to stay here for this. Why do I do this to myself? I know he's going to treat me like shit, but I do it every time.

I guess it's because I deserve it. I deserve all of this for not being a better friend, a better student, a better worker and most of all a better daughter…

Of course, he's turned over, interrupting my train of thought. I'm not even going to look at him, he makes me sick. 'Open your eyes.' Right. Like he cares if my eyes are open. Why would he anyway? I'm sure he was thinking about someone else anyway. If I had anyone else to think about, I would have been.

Merlin! Why did I have to do this? Why didn't I just stick to my 'love 'em and leave 'em' theory? And why Malfoy? Of all people in this world, I stick myself with the one that is most known for treating people like trash. Whoever said I was brilliant didn't see this coming. Hell, I didn't see this coming. Why can't I shake this off?

Ok, Ron, that's a given, I knew he wanted me, I've always known. I guess if things had been different, I would have returned his feelings. I can just see it now, me and Ron with six or seven little Weasley's running around. Ha ha. But I did a good job of fucking that up. Just like everything else.

Harry, well, I suppose that was because I got him drunk. Which was on purpose. I just wanted to see what it would be like. He was after all, one of the sexiest guys I knew. It was kind of a bad thing to do; I knew how much Ginny liked him. But hell, she wasn't doing him, why shouldn't I? Right.

Then there's… who else? … Fred and George. I have to say, one of them was an accident, they're twins for Merlin's sake. I thought Fred was George; I was going back for seconds. I don't even really know why I did that in the first place. Maybe it was because they could make me laugh. They are rather comical, honestly. And if I do say so, it wasn't all that bad. Pretty good actually, but not as good as Malfoy.

Why did I just say that?

So moving on…

Bill, Percy, and Charlie… Not much to tell there. I think Percy was by far the worst. Ugh. Makes me queasy to think about it. That was a bad night. I was drunk; I blame it on the fire whiskey. Bill and Charlie on the other hand now that was something to tell someone about. If I had anyone to tell it to, I don't expect Ginny would be too keen on hearing about it. That was defiantly an on purpose thing. I knew they would be good, wooing a French Vela and working with Dragons, come on.

I do wish that I had gotten with someone a bit… older… like Remus or Sirius, now that would have been great, I'm sure. There's something about the both of them… Remus with his being a werewolf, dangerous under the light of the full moon, yet kind when the sun comes up. An adventure really, and I do so like an adventure. Then there's Sirius, I think it's the rugged look he has after being in Azkaban so long. He's dangerous, yes, just not in the same manner as Remus. With age comes experience, yes.

There are all of the other men I've had as well, most of whom I don't know the names of. And now that I think about it, that's sad. Really, really, sad. I'm such a slut. But I'm not just any slut, as Malfoy says, I'm his slut.

I can feel the tears stinging my eyes; I knew I shouldn't have been thinking about all of this. Great, now I get to think about how much of a disappointment I am to my mother and father.

It's not that I am stupid, because let's face it, if I were, I would not have been made Head Girl in my seventh year at Hogwarts. After I graduated, when mum and dad were still alive (they were so proud) I was doing an internship at the Ministry. Then came the time for the war. I was studying as well as working and with the rising war, I had to stop both. I was fighting along side the best wizards Hogwarts had ever turned out, and it took me places. There were times when I didn't come home for months, me, Ron, Harry, and the others. We were so very busy.

Then things calmed down. Voldemort seemed to be taking a rest, gathering more followers, biding his time. But when we got news of some Death Eaters in Ireland, we all went, and that was when he killed them. By them, of course I mean my mum and dad. I don't know why he picked my family. It wasn't fair; they didn't stand a chance against him. He could have at least chosen an all magic family, not that I would want anyone else to have to go through that hurt, it's just the principle of the thing.

Dumbledore told me it was because he felt Harry and I were his biggest threats, and since Harry's family was already dead, he went after mine… Still, I found no comfort in that, I still do not. If anything I feel worse, if I hadn't been such a book worm and a know-it-all, this wouldn't have happened. I'm the loser either way you look at it.

Not long after the death of my parents did we finally kill him and more than half of the Death Eaters. The other half of the Death Eaters were either imprisoned in Azkaban or weren't caught. But since Voldemort is dead and all of his Horcruxes were destroyed, they would never rise again.

I guess it was sometime after that, when I started with my… obsession, that I stopped wanting to go to school, which for me, is very odd. I still don't foresee myself going back. I don't feel the need to be a Healer or an Auror or any of those things. And so, I got landed with being assistant to the vile Malfoy.

But I don't like to think of it as an addiction, it's more like a medicine really. The only time I feel like I'm back on top of the world, is when I'm with a man. To be more specific, as much as it pains me to admit it, when I'm with Malfoy.

Even Ron and Harry are Aurors. Ginny works with her dad, in Muggle Relations, but that's what she wanted to do. And I'm stuck with Malfoy.

It's my own fault my life has come to this. If I had been at home, with my parents, like they asked, none of this would have happened. But I wasn't, and there's no changing that. I am what I am and that's all I can be.

I may be book smart, but when it comes to life, mine in particular, I am seriously lacking.

And now, I'm stuck with being Malfoy's own personal sex toy, as well as, someone he can beat up on when ever he chooses and being his pee-on at work. Great. Oh I'm sure he doesn't mean to hit me, I'm sure 'it's just something that happens.' That makes sense.

In all my life, I've never heard something as idiotic as that. Really, how thick does he think I am?

_End Hermione's POV _

Draco was fast asleep long before Hermione; she was lost somewhere in her thoughts. She tossed and turned in her bed, once she was sure Draco was asleep. This was the first time she had actually slept in the same bed with him, and he was making her uncomfortable. She wasn't used to having another person in her bed, it was just weird.

After about an hour, she heard foot steps in the living room outside her bedroom door. She was sure Ginny was home and Ron and Harry were more than likely with her. She wanted to get up and talk with Ginny, more because she didn't want to be in the bed with Draco than actually wanting to talk, but she knew it wasn't such a good idea. If she were to get up and leave, it was possible Ginny would want to go in her room and talk and that just wouldn't do. So, she decided to stay put. Better to be there in the bed with him than to be caught with someone like Malfoy alone in her bed.

She turned over on her other side, now facing the back of Draco, and stared at him for a long while, just thinking.

_'How can something so beautiful be such an ass? Honestly, Hermione, its Malfoy… Yeah, I know, but that doesn't change the fact that he was granted with having a perfect body, perfect features, and an even more perfect smile… Have you even seen him smile? …I don't know…I bet he never smiles, he's always got that damned smirk plastered on his face. Is that really what you think? Do you really think he is perfect? … No, he isn't perfect because if he were, he wouldn't treat you like trash and you wouldn't be so inclined to get away from his as soon as you could.' _

This internal struggle continued in her head for at least thirty minutes, until she felt her eye lids beginning to droop down. It was time, she though, to go to sleep. Even though tomorrow, rather today by now, is Saturday, she still needed to be getting to bed.

Much to her surprise, sleep wasn't hard to find. There for a little while, it hid from her like a scolded puppy would. But none the less, she found it and welcomed it with open arms.

Only in her dreams is her life as perfect as she thought it should be. She isn't with Malfoy, she doesn't have to lie to her friends, she's pretty again, and smart, and most of all, her parents are there. They are always there. Every time she closes her eyes.

A/N: ok, **Kez**, this one's for you! Enjoy, everyone! And lemme know what you think and if you want more ;) Sway


	5. Chapter 5 Fire Whisky Aftereffects

Chapter 5

Fire Whisky Aftereffects

_Hermione's POV_

Okay, so, I'm awake… But I still haven't dared to open my eyes. I don't want to see him lying next to me; I don't want to see him again until Monday morning, if then. Why I let him stay here instead of kicking him out like normal, I don't know. What was I thinking? It was like I knew if I told him no he would get even more violent and I couldn't have taken that. I think he's hit me enough for the next few days and all I needed was for him to wake Ginny, Harry, or Ron. That would have been the perfect ending for a perfect day.

So, I can't just lay here with my eyes closed all day. I'm going to have to open them, plus the fact that I need to go to the bathroom… Great.

Okay, so I'm just going to roll over slowly and get out of bed. Maybe if I'm careful he won't notice I've gone.

I rolled over onto my left side and opened my eyes, seeing as how my back is to him, I can't see if he's awake or not. I tried to keep myself on my side of the bed, why would I ever want to be close to him? Ugh, that's just gross…

Just a few more seconds and I'm going to get up… Six… Seven… Eight… Ok to hell with it. I'm getting up.

I sat up in bed and planted my feet gently on the tile floor, it's cold but that's normal. I really don't want to look over my shoulder, but there is a small part of me that is curious to know what he looks like when he's sleeping. I bet he doesn't look like such an ass hole. I bet he only looks like that when he's awake and has control over it.

Slowly I rotated my head to my left, expecting to see a head of white blond hair propped carelessly atop my pillow. But to my surprise he was not there. Upon looking at the floor in front of me, his clothes were gone as well.

My mouth fell open as I jumped up from my place on the edge of my bed, "Oh shit!" I said rather loudly; too loud for my liking.

I snatched my dressing robe from my bedside table and threw it on just as I was hurrying from my bedroom and slamming the door behind me.

Luckily, Ron was still asleep on the couch, snoring a bit, and apparently Ginny and Harry were asleep in her room because the house is totally quite, all but Ron's snores.

I crept through the living room and into the kitchen then into the dining room and finally into the bath room. Draco was no where to be found.

I let out a sigh of relief and decided to get into the shower. He wouldn't let me leave the room the night before, so I was overdue for a shower. I can smell him on myself, and that is enough to turn my stomach.

'_Wonderful, I reek of Malfoy.' _I thought to myself.

As I took off my robe and tossed it aside before stepping into the shower, I saw a small piece of parchment on the counter with my name on it.

I automatically recognized the all too neat hand writing and was reluctant to pick it up. But I did anyway. I opened it and read it to myself.

Granger,

I do not expect my staying over last night changed anything.

It certainly did not, for me. I will be back tonight, don't worry,

Pet, I wouldn't keep you waiting. Until you see me, do try and clean up.

D.M

P.S. Do try and wear something less constricting, I will be in a hurry.

Appalled, I crumpled the letter and threw it into the waste basket, then turned on the scalding water and stepped in. What an insufferable ass hole he is.

_End Hermione's POV_

_

* * *

__Draco's POV_

It was the damned sun shining into my face that woke me from my sleep, a dream filled sleep, peaceful really. I think that was the best sleep I've gotten in the past five or so years. But it is merely coincidental. I was exhausted, had a bit of a workout.

I knew Granger wasn't awake, I could still hear her breathing, light as it may have been, I could hear it. I knew she would be on edge if I woke her, so I slipped out of the bed quickly and undetected. I walked lightly over to her side of the bed, where my clothes were, and put them on carelessly. Then it was time for me to be on my way, I didn't want to be there when she did wake up and I didn't need Scar Head, Weasel, or Weasel-et walking in and seeing me. It was probably about ten in the morning so I knew none of them would be awake, having had a long night just as I did

I opened the door of her room and was bombarded by the sound of Weasel's snoring. What god awful noise that was. One would think he could breathe from his nose when he slept, but apparently that is asking too much. I decided to venture to the bathroom for one I really needed to use the toilet and two I knew that would be the first place Granger would go once she was awake. I searched my pockets after I used the bathroom and found a spare piece of parchment so I scribbled down a note and left it on the sink for her.

Quietly I crept out through the house and into her fire place with a pinch of floo powder and a flash of emerald flames, I was gone.

I am now sitting alone in Malfoy Manor and its cold. The house elves must have realized I was not coming home last night and did not light the fires. My head is spinning and I feel nauseas. I must say I am not at all thrilled with my actions last night. What the hell was I thinking?

Staying in that filthy whore's bed. That's just disgusting. How is it that I let myself slip?

I'm slipping farther every day and one day, she's going to notice. I can't keep letting these things happen. It isn't right. I'm Draco Malfoy for the love of Merlin! I don't do things like this. I love them then I leave them, that's the way it's always been. Love being a metaphor for fuck, of course. I would never love anyone like that, never. I can't, that's just not in my genetic make-up.

What is so bloody special about her? She's just like the rest of them, no, she's worse. She is nothing more than a pathetic whore. She's only using me just as I'm using her. It's sex. I go there and fuck her. There's nothing more to this fucked up relationship. Nothing! It's not even a relationship, you have to like the other person for it to be a relationship, and we hate each other, that's the way it's always been and that's the way it will continue to be.

She's inside my fucking head, plaguing my thoughts.

She's made me think about the things I've done to her and I think I regret them. I think I actually hurt more than she does when I hit her. It's accidental of course, but I do feel some sort of remorse for it. 'Least I think its remorse…

It's my bloody father's fault; it's been bred into me. Some flaw in my blood line, an imperfection. Something has to be done. Something's got to give; I can't go on like this. Fighting with myself over her. Why should I give a shit about her? Why does it put me into such a rage to think that she could be fucking someone else right now?

I'll kill that bitch if she is. Let her have a slip of the tongue; let her tell me she's fucking Weasel or any of them for that matter.

Ah, here I am again, pacing my floor, thinking about all of those things that piss me off. Stupid bitch. She has a way of angering me more than any one person has ever been able to do, and it's maddening.

I am a man and as a man I should better hide these things. Yes, push them to the back of my mind and let them stay there under lock and key.

"Theodore!" I yelled as I stopped my pacing.

With a cracking sound and a small spurt of smoke, my house elf, Theodore, appeared and bowed before me. His large noise crinkled as it touched the ground and his ears fell into his eyes.

"Yes, Master, sir, Theodore is here." He squeaked.

"Bring my fire whiskey and a glass." I told the elf, who was still bowing.

He looked up but did not move his head, "Yes, master," he said just before snapping his fingers and disappearing.

A few seconds passed in which time I decided to take a seat in my favorite crimson arm chair beside the fire. Theodore reappeared with a tray in his hands that held a bottle of my best fire whiskey and a small scotch type glass with ice cubes in it. He sat it down on the table beside me.

"Will the master be needing anything else from Theodore this day?" The elf asked.

I waved my hand toward the fire. "Yes, lite my fire then be off."

Theodore bowed and did as I instructed. Once the fire was blazing before me, Theodore disappeared again and I was alone, as usual.

I twisted off the cap from the fire whisky and poured myself a glassful. I put the fire whisky bottle down on the table and took the glass in my hand. I watched the bubbles float to the surface and pop as I swirled the dark liquid around in the glass for a few moments before I took my first gulp. The burning in my throat was all too familiar; I'd spent many nights drinking this same drink since the down fall of my father as the right hand man of Lord Voldemort. And many more nights since then, after my mother took her own life, in this very house.

Often I find myself wondering what life would have been like if I hadn't betrayed my family and joined up with The Order. My father would probably be more than just a shell of a man tormented by dementors and my mother would still be alive. I find myself angrier at her now though. Why did she take her own life after my father's conviction? I would think that she would be glad he couldn't hurt her anymore. But as I have been told, she loved him even when he hit her.

She was weak.

I am weak.

Look at me; I'm a sad excuse for a human. Wizard or not, it's sad. Drinking away my problems…

I've just finished my third glass and now I've poured myself a fourth. When will this stop?

_End Draco's POV

* * *

_

Draco drank his seventh glass and was indeed feeling the aftereffects of the powerful fire whisky. He hadn't tried to get up from his chair, knowing it was better to stay put than try and walk. The end of the fire whisky was drawing nearer and his vision had been impaired too long, his whole body pleaded with him to just sleep it off, but he wasn't going to have it.

He didn't want to go to sleep. He wanted to figure things out. He wanted answers to the questions which had been harassing him.

He stood from his chair, letting the empty bottle smash on the carpet at his feet, and swayed for a few moments. Once he was sure he could walk without falling, he sauntered toward the fireplace and flicked his wand at it, extinguishing the flames. For a few minutes he searched the mantle, looking for something but only seeing pictures of his mother and father. They were sitting in chairs beside one another, both with unhappy looks painted on their somber faces. Disgusted, he thrust his arm across the mantle and threw all of the pictures to the floor, then resumed his search.

He found what he was looking for, a vase holding floo powder, but it was not on the mantle, it was on the hearth to the left of him. He bent down and took a fist full, then threw it into the grate and stepped into the emerald green flames.

His words were slurred as he spoke, but clear enough to get his destination out.

* * *

It had been at least six hours since Hermione had gotten out of the shower and already Ron, Ginny, and Harry were gone again. The brunette sat alone in her house, curled up on the brown leather couch with a book. She hardly noticed when her fire place spat out a tall white blond haired figure. It wasn't until he was stumbling across the room toward her that she looked over her book.

"My Lord, Malfoy! What the fuck are you doing here?" She half yelled at him as she dropped the book into her lap.

He stopped walking toward her, realizing he would probably fall if he didn't, and leaned against a near by chair. His words were almost incoherent when he spoke. "I wwwwas, coming here tooooooo talk wissss yewwww."

"What? Coming here to talk? Malfoy, we don't talk. I have nothing to say to you and you have nothing to say to me." She said as she stood from her place on the couch and put the book gently on the cushion she had been seated on.

"Ohhhhh b—bb---bbbb---ut, Granger, I have pa—paa--- lenty to say to you!" He said as he staggered on his feet and shook one finger in her direction.

She rolled her eyes and walked closer to him. "You've nothing I want to hear. And what the hell is the matter with you? Malfoy, are you drunk?"

He blinked lazily and smirked, "I'm not as think as you drunk I am."

By this time, she was standing only inches in front of him and she put her hands on both of his shoulders to steady him. "I beg to differ. You don't need to be here. You need to go home and stay there until tonight. You're not supposed to be here now. What if Ginny comes home early with Ron and Harry? Did you think about that?"

He swiped his hands at her arms, "Get your ga—ga—gawd damned hands off of me, G—Ga--- ranger!"

Hermione threw her hands up in the air. "Fine, have it your way!"

As soon as his shoulders were free from her grasp, Draco stumbled forward and crashed into her, sending them both falling to the ground. Hermione hit the floor with a loud thud, which was her head hitting the hard wood, and Draco crushed her with his weight.

She writhed under him, trying to get away but it was no use. After a few long seconds, she spoke again, "Get your drunken ass off of me, Malfoy."

Draco put one shaky finger against her lips. "Shhh. You're going to wake the whole house."

She scoffed, "We are the only ones here, genius."

Draco pushed himself up into a sitting position and swayed again, "Reeeeeeally? Well, isn't this nice? Whose house is this?"

Hermione propped herself up on her elbows beside him. "This is my house, idiot. You're the one that came here, remember?"

Draco's head bobbled on his shoulders as he tried to focus on her face, "That's nice."

Her eyes widened, it was obvious she was fed up with his drunkenness. "No, what would be nice is if you left."

His brow furrowed, "Don't you t—t—take that tone with me, Gr---Gr--- girl!"

"For the love of Merlin, Malfoy, let's just get you up and into bed. You can sleep this off in my room." She said as she stood to her feed and tugged on his disheveled shirt.

He was indeed wearing the same clothes he had worn to her house the night before; apparently he hadn't given himself enough time to shower and dress before he decided to get drunk.

He resisted against her tugging. "No, I have things I wwwwwant to say to yewww."

"Then won't you please just say them." She released his shirt and stood beside him with her arms crossed over her chest, looking down at the top of his head.

"I want you out!" He yelled.

"Out? This is my fucking house! This is one of the things you don't own." She countered.

"No, no, you shilly sit, not out of here." He pointed at his surroundings, "I want you out of here." He placed one hand on the top of his head and the other on his chest.

Hermione crinkled her nose, "I'm not in there, Malfoy."

He swayed again then fell to his back on the floor and gazed up at her with his glassy grey eyes, "Oh, but you are."

A/N: I do hope you all enjoied this one. I've tried to keep Draco as in character as possible, but seeing the direction I'm going to have this go, I think it is going to be difficult. Do let me know what you think. Sway


	6. Chapter 6 Confusion Sets In

Chapter 6

Confusion Sets In

Hermione refused to take in what she had just heard come out of Draco's mouth. As she reached down for his hands she kept reminding herself, _'He's drunk. He doesn't know what he's saying.'_

Draco crinkled his nose at Hermione's out stretched hands. "I don't n—n--need your help, Gran--gerrrrr!"

Hermione rolled her eyes but kept her hands stretched out toward his body. He was indeed still lying on the floor of her living room on his back with his legs crossed.

"Draco Malfoy, get your drunken ass out of the floor! I will not tolerate such childishness in my house. You weren't asked to come here anyway. I should just kick your ass out into the street!" Hermione breathed rather loudly.

Draco sneered and glared up at Hermione's small figure with his piercing grey eyes and did probably the most childish thing Hermione had ever seen. He stuck out is tongue and blew a loud and very messy raspberry. Hermione's mouth fell open and she began to laugh slightly but only for a second before she clasped one hand over her mouth and the other around her stomach.

Draco closed his eyes and relaxed his face as she continued her laughing. He didn't really know why he had done that but he wasn't concerned either. It wasn't like he was able to concentrate on much of anything at the moment because for some reason he couldn't get the room to stop spinning around him. The room's spinning was confusing him because he couldn't figure out why he wasn't moving as well and it was making him very nauseous.

Hermione's laughing began to die down once she noticed Draco's face was turning a lovely shade of green. The green was almost a sage color but it had spots which were slightly pinkish also. She knew what this meant and she didn't want to see the end result.

"Malfoy, are you alright? You don't look so great." She asked as she stared down at him blank faced.

She had barely finished her sentence when Draco jumped to his feet wide eyed and pushed her out of the way. He stumbled as he ran toward the bathroom, but didn't quite make it. Just as he was reaching for the door knob, his turning stomach got the best of him and he blew chunks all over the outside of the white door.

Hermione hadn't opted to follow him, but she was more than aware of the fact that he hadn't made it into the bathroom. She cringed at the thought of having to clean up what had once lain in the bottom of his stomach. This was the very thing she was trying to avoid, but as it seemed, the world has it out for Hermione Granger.

* * *

_Hermione's POV_

"Malfoy, are you… alright?" I called to him in a shaky voice. For some reason I get all weak and shaky when I know someone's just gotten sick. I don't even want to think about it because then I'm going to get sick and that just won't do.

What made things worse is the fact that I know I'm going to be the one's that's got to clean it up. I gagged as I dwelled on that thought. That's disgusting. If I wanted to clean up things like that I'd work in St. Mungos, or with children. I shivered and my stomach began to turn and it only took what seemed like nanoseconds.

He didn't answer.

What the hell is he doing?

I took a few steps closer to where I heard the wrenching sound come from, but I still couldn't see him. "Malfoy!"

All I heard in response to his name was a groan then a loud bang. The bang, I assume, was from him falling and his head hitting the floor. Deciding it wasn't worth thinking about, I ran toward the bathroom and there he was, lying on the floor on his back passed out cold. I only chose to move so quickly because I know that if someone is intoxicated and cuts them selves they could bleed to death in minutes because alcohol thins the blood. Not that I was concerned with his wellbeing but because I don't want Malfoy blood on my floors.

"Great!" I threw my arms up in the air to emphasize the fact that this does not make me happy. "The selfish bastard comes to my house drunk, raving about nonsense, acts like a child, throws up on my door, and then passes out. My day couldn't possibly get any worse."

I was seriously thinking about leaving him there. It would serve him right after how he's acted. But I couldn't bring myself to do it. Not because I was sympathizing with him or anything like that, just because he's thrown up on my door and passed out… Ugh. I had to move him because I don't need Ginny or any of the others to see him here.

I've never been able to tell if he was serious about getting them all fired if they ever found out about… us… but this is not the time to test that theory. I could never forgive myself if I was the reason more bad things happened to them. And it's true; it would be completely my fault.

To make matters worse, not only was my door covered in vomit, his shirt and pants were as well. And if there's one thing I know, it's that he is not getting into my bed like this. Not in a million years.

_End Hermione's POV

* * *

_

Hermione crouched down beside Draco's fallen body and began unbuttoning his shirt. It wasn't a difficult task because he hadn't actually buttoned all of the buttons when he'd left her house earlier in the day. Once she had the shirt completely unbuttoned, so did the same with his pants. At this point she wasn't sure how she was going to get his clothes the rest of the way off or how she was going to get him into her bed. She wasn't what one could call an overly strong girl so she couldn't exactly life all of his dead weight. Then it dawned on her, she is a witch, with a wand.

She mentally slapped herself. _'How thick am I?' _

She stood from her place beside him and walked back into the living room to retrieve her wand from its place in the table beside the mirror. Once she had her wand, she approached Draco and muttered an incantation which first caused his shirt to disappear thin his pants; both items appeared in the floor beside Draco's head. Hermione had to do them one by one to keep from making him completely naked. That was not a sight she wanted to see at the moment. She had better things on her mind, well for now.

When Draco's shirt and pants were gone Hermione's eyes were suddenly drawn to his chest. She stood there, feet planted on the spot, with her wand still in the air as she stared down at him.

She had never actually taken the time to look at his body. In truth, he was perfectly sculpted with broad shoulders, muscular upper and lower arms, a nicely toned, but not too toned stomach, and very muscular legs. For a few moments she actually thought about touching him, it looked too good to be true. But she held back, knowing she had thing she needed to do which did not include fondling a drunken guy who just happened to be her boss and was passed out in her floor.

Hermione tore her eyes away from Draco's amazing body because if she didn't she knew she would do something stupid. She diverted her attention to the door at Draco's feet and remembered it too was still covered in vomit. She flicked her wand at the door without speaking the cleaning incantation and the vomit disappeared, leaving the door as clean and white as ever. This was one of the many times she was glad she had gone to Hogwarts. She couldn't stomach the idea of having to clean someone else's vomit up, cleaning her own was asking too much.

Hermione massaged her temples with the tip of her wand, which was in her right hand and her left index finger while she thought. She was trying to come up with a spell or charm that would assist her in getting Draco into her bed because she wasn't about to carry him there herself. When the idea hit her, she felt quite stupid that it had taken her so long to come up with a solution.

She pointed her wand at Draco's body and said, loud and clear, "Wingardium Leviosa."

Draco's body rose from the ground and when she pointed her wand to her right, his body followed its path. Hermione bent down and picked up Draco's clothes and placed them on his bare chest. She walked close behind him and held his head in her left hand. The charm does move things, but it isn't one that is very concerned of that 'thing's' well being because it caused his head to fall back as he floated through the air.

She wasn't sure at the time why she was at all concerned about keeping his head from bobbling but she suspected that it was because if their roles were reversed, she'd expect him to do the same. Though what she would expect from him and what he actually did could be to very different things.

After all, he is still Draco Malfoy, drunk and passed out or not.

* * *

It only took a few seconds, possibly a minute, for her to get Draco into her room and once she did, she levitated him onto her bed and pulled the blankets up over him. She then threw his vomited on clothing into the hamper in her room and adverted her gaze back to him. He looked so peaceful, so innocent and oblivious to the world around him, but Hermione figured it was because he was asleep. 

It was amazing to her how carefree and loving he looked while he was sleeping; it was like nothing she had ever seen. Or really, expected to come from him.

She stared down at his pale face for several minutes quietly wishing he would open his beautiful grey eyes. This was possibly the only time she had ever wished she could see the eyes she secretly hated. On a normal day she would be wishing they were anyone else's eyes, but tonight, so only wanted to see his.

Before she knew what she was doing, she found herself extending a hand and running it up Draco's left jaw and back into his white blond locks. She immediately became fully aware that she had just touched the very man she loathed; she decided it was time to go.

Hermione sighed heavily as she left the room and closed the door quietly behind her.

* * *

_Hermione's POV_

I rested my back against the outside of my bedroom door once it was shut. What was that all about? And what the hell did I just do? I understand him being drunk, I've seen him that way many times before, but this time he was different. And so was I. It was unsettling to see him that way. He wasn't being the obnoxious prat that he usually is. He wasn't throwing stuff around my house and cursing me. (Cursing as in calling me names, not using his wand.) When I think on it, it's strange that he's never hexed or jinxed me because Merlin knows I've wanted to do it to him.

Malfoy really isn't as bad as he seems sometimes, this being one of them. He has only ever hit me, never magically cursed me or anything and I suppose the hitting is better. Curses, jinxes, and hexes are probably much worse. Many of those can lead to death and I'm relatively sure he's not going to kill me with a slap.

I can't believe he was being civil, well as civil as I think he can be. I've never seen him like this before and it's scary. What the hell was he talking about anyway?

He seemed so innocent and child like just a few moments ago.

'Oh but you are.'

What's that all about? I'm not in there. I can't be. It's just not feasible, not at all. Malfoy can't care about people. He only cares about himself, no one else. That's just the alcohol talking that is.

"Ugh!" I shouted rather loudly. But it's not like Malfoy is going to wake up from that, not if my moving him didn't make him stir.

Okay, I'm just going to go back to my book. I don't need to think about this. There's nothing to think about. He doesn't care about me and that's the end of it.

I curled up back in my spot on the couch and opened my book to the page I was reading before I was so rudely interrupted. I had to read and reread the same sentence seven times. This is ridiculous. Why in the hell is this bothering me so much? This is just stupid.

"Stupid, stupid, Hermione! Get a grip!" I shouted at myself.

Ugh! Sometimes I annoy even myself. What is the fucking problem here? Why do I feel like it's my duty to go and lay in that bed with him until he wakes up? Why do I even care if he does wake up? It's not my place to give a shit about him. I use him. That's it. There's nothing more to this. I don't care about him.

… I don't…

_End Hermione's POV

* * *

_

Hermione sat on the couch trying in vein to read her book but it just wasn't going to happen. Draco's words were running circles in her head and it was driving her insane. She wanted to go and wake him up and yell. She didn't know why she wanted to yell but she did. At the same time, though, she wanted to go in there and crawl into bed with him and just lay there. Even if he was asleep.

Finally after twenty minutes of not being able to get past one sentence in the book, she threw it aside and almost jumped off the couch. She hurried into her room and closed the door behind her again.

Standing just inside the door, she stared at Draco's pale skin and white blond hair. When she was able to break herself away, she crossed the room and drew a lilac night gown from her dresser. Hurriedly, she threw her close off and into a heap on the floor and put on the night gown. She wasn't exactly tired; she just wanted to be in bed with him. Why, she still didn't know, but she couldn't get past the feeling.

She scooted carefully into bed and turned over onto her right side so that she was facing him. Still, he looked so peaceful, so beautiful and innocent.

She kept her space from him as she lay there. All she wanted to do was know there was someone in there with her and just to stare at that person, who just happened to be Draco Malfoy, for hours or until she fell asleep. Which ever came first was fine with her.

For an unknown reason to Hermione, at this very second she felt whole. She didn't feel like a failure. She didn't feel like a disappointment. She didn't feel like Draco's whore. She felt alive and real.

* * *

Hermione lay there for two or more hours, simply staring at Draco. Watching the rise and fall of his chest and the corners of his mouth twitching as he slept, she started to doze off. 

She was just beginning to slip into one of her dreams about her parents when she felt a jerk in the bed and snapped her eyes open.

There he was. Draco was sitting straight up in the bed looking wildly around the room. For a few seconds he didn't seem to know where he was. It wasn't until he finally noticed Hermione lying in the bed beside him that he spoke.

"Wha… the fuck, Granger?" His words were still slightly slurred as he tried to annunciate.

Hermione's eyes widened and she fumbled over he words as she spoke. "I… you… er… You passed out."

Draco squinted his eyes, trying to remember something. "What? How'd I get here?"

Hermione scooted back from him before answering, "Floo."

Draco shook his head then placed one hand on his forehead. "Ugh. Fire whisky."

Hermione nodded in response to his statement which wasn't really a question.

"Well then why am I in your bed… with you?" He said rubbing his eyes.

Hermione didn't answer right away, she couldn't think of a real reason.

"What are you playing at, Granger?" He asked as the Malfoy smirk played its way across his face and his grey eyes bore into Hermione's chocolate brown ones.

A/N: Okay, here's the update. Sorry it too so long. I've been having trouble figuring out what I want to happen in this one, so if you have any suggestions, feel free to tell m. (I'll give credit where credit is due). I want to thank you all for the reviews, it really helps along the writing process. Let me know what you think of this one. I don't think it's great, but you may. Sway


	7. Chapter 7 Do You Want Me

Chapter 7

Do You Want Me

Hermione didn't quite know how to explain their current situation. She didn't want to admit that she was in the bed with him because she wanted to be yet she didn't see any other reason she would be there. How was she going to tell him she wanted to be there? For the first time, ever, she was in the bed with him because she wanted to be, not because she was trying to forget. This wasn't like her at all, and she knew it. But how was he going to react to her explanation? More than likely, she thought, he would get very angry and possibly hit her. She didn't want to have to go through that tonight. She wasn't in the mood to have him in a fit of rage; she rather liked how he was moments ago. When he was sleeping soundly.

She wished she had been able to get to sleep faster that way, she wouldn't have to explain anything. With any luck, he would have woken up, not remembered anything, and left. But this was the kind of luck she had. It was inevitable that he was going to wake up and see she wasn't asleep and blow a head gasket.

Before she could utter one word, her mind was consumed with the memory of her first night in Draco's arms. She hadn't thought about it in so long she'd almost forgotten it, but her flashback did a good job of refreshing her mind. Though maybe she would have been better off if she hadn't tuned out of her current situation with Draco.

* * *

The walls of Conference room A deep in the heart of the Ministry of Magic were draped with garlands, streamers, and mistletoe. The room was full of round tables with chairs all around them and chattering people all dressed in their holiday finest. As it would seem, Hermione was attending the company Christmas party as was every other person that worked at the Ministry.

Hermione sat alone at a circular table draped in a flashing red and green cloth in the farthest corner from where most of the employees were congregating. She'd had at least eight bottles of butter beer and three shots of fire whisky, so she was feeling pretty good at the time. That was until she was joined by a tall white blond haired man.

"Oh bollocks, Malfoy, can't you go and bother someone other than me?" She said trying her hardest not to slur her words.

She hadn't realized she was this intoxicated until the moment when all of her thoughts vanished and reality slapped her in the face.

Draco smirked as he eyed her body. She wore a thigh length deep red, tight fitting, gown which was strapless and laced over a slit from her navel to her shapely breasted, much like a corset. His eyes finally came to a rest on her heaving cleavage. He thought for a moment that if she took a deep breath both of them may just fly free from the thin fabric which restrained them.

He tore his eyes away from her cleavage so she wouldn't notice the trance her breasts caused him to slip into. "Ah, Granger, glad to see you too."

Hermione snorted. She hadn't meant to snort, she was really trying to laugh or scoff but a snort was the only thing that came out.

_'Oink, oink,'_ she thought after she realized the noise that left her lips wasn't a laugh.

Draco didn't seem fazed by her snort as he quickly sat down in a chair directly in front of her and said, "Mind if I sit?"

He wasn't actually asking if she minded. It didn't matter to him if she cared or not. He was going to sit either way.

Hermione sighed, "sure, Malfoy. Like you would go away if I asked you to."

He blinked lazily at her fighting with himself to keep his eyes off of her chest. "You're right, Granger. I just came over here to wish you a happy Christmas. I do know how the holidays are when you've lost someone."

Hermione's face fell and her mouth gaped open for a few seconds before she could make herself speak. She couldn't believe what she'd just heard. It was more possible that her state of intoxication caused her to misunderstand him. "What?" She asked confused.

Draco shifted in his chair, "I said happy Christmas and that I know how the holidays can make you feel when you've lost someone."

Her ears hadn't deceived her, like she thought they had. But she wasn't going to believe Malfoy, of all people, had just said this to her. It wasn't plausible. He wasn't the jolly type, or the type that actually cared about what others were feeling.

Hermione grabbed her butter beer and took a long drink then slammed the empty bottle to the table and stood up. "What the hell do you know, Malfoy? Happy Christmas indeed!"

She hadn't held an 'inside' voice as she spoke to him and for some unknown reason, the room around her was moving. She desperately wished it would stop. Perhaps her slight shouting and standing up so quickly had been the cause for this, but she wasn't sure.

Draco stood up seconds after Hermione did. He was sure she was going to fall and he didn't want her landing on him. He did the only thing he could think of to keep her from falling; he grabbed her left shoulder in his right hand.

Hermione's reaction wasn't the one he had had in mind.

"What the fuck… Malfoy, get your fucking hand off of me!" She swatted at her left shoulder, trying to free herself from his grasp.

Draco gripped her harder and pulled her close to him so he could whisper in her ear. "Granger, if you value your job in anyway, I suggest you calm the fuck down and come with me. Now!"

Hermione wasn't aware that her shouting had caused a scene until she jerked her head away from Draco's mouth and looked behind him. Sure enough, at least twenty people, Harry and Ron among them, were staring straight at Hermione and Draco. Hermione stared at the crowd of people then into Draco's cold grey eyes.

Draco hadn't noticed the crowd. But then why was he so concerned with her yelling?

"Get moving." He said as he tugged on her arm.

Hermione's feet shifted beneath her and in moments she was allowing herself to be dragged out of the room by Draco.

Once they stopped walking Hermione realized she and Draco were standing inside his office. And they were alone.

His grip on her arm only loosened when he forced her into a chair and stood in front of her. She lightly rubbed the area where his finger had been, knowing she would have a nice bruise when she awoke the next day.

"What the hell was that back there, Granger?" He asked as he gazed down at her, this time not caring to let her see him eyeing her breasts.

Hermione's eyes reached up his body and came to a rest on his eyes. This was when she noticed what part of her body he was eagerly glaring at. She crossed her arms over her chest as she spoke and noticed immediately that his eyes were adverted to hers.

"I don't have to explain anything to you, Malfoy. I am not at work at the moment so you have no bearing on what I do or say. I do have the right to say what I like."

Draco clenched his jaw, "I was trying to be nice."

She half scoffed and half snorted, "Right. You were being nice to me simply because you care about my well being! Umm-hmm."

He backed away from her and propped himself on the corner of his desk. "Come here."

She furrowed her brow. "Excuse me?"

"I said come here. It was not a request, it was an order." He answered.

"I don't take orders from you." Hermione retorted.

Draco leaned forward and took her small wrist in his hand then forcefully pulled her from her seat. "You will apologize to me."

Hermione stumbled as Draco pulled her from her seat. She was able to answer once she regained her balance and tried to free herself from his hands, again. "I will not."

Draco pulled her closer. She was now only inches from him and her breasts were just barely touching his chest. This time, she didn't struggle with him to get free. She was temporarily consumed with his scent. She'd never noticed it before now and truthfully, he smelled wonderful. It was a mix of his cologne and that unique masculine smell every man has. She was all too familiar with the smell of men and this smell was tempting to her. This temptation was dangerous. Not only because she had an unhealthy obsession with men but because this man was her boss and Draco Malfoy.

Draco lowered his head to her ear, "you will," his lips brushed against her ear as he spoke. This was one action that made her melt into putty in the hands of men.

A slight shiver coursed through her body and she tried to control it, but was unable to do so. What she did next surprised even her. Her left hand, which was her only free hand at the moment, met the front of Draco's black dress pants and pressed against his crotch.

Draco pulled his head back from her ear and a look of true shock plastered it's way across his face. He was numb and couldn't react at all. He hadn't expected her to do this. He was only toying with her because he knew he could. Even when women weren't drunk, he had a way of making them do what he wanted them to, he always had. But this wasn't exactly what he had bargained for, not that he was going to give up the opportunity to take advantage of the situation. It'd been weeks since he's had a good shag and he was in desperate need of one. Hermione was in the right place at the right time.

Hermione locked her eyes with his and stretched up on her tip toes so that she was eye level with him, all the while still rubbing her hand on the crotch of his pants. She moved her lips close to his, too close, and tickled them with the warmth of her breath as she spoke. "I'm sorry, Malfoy."

Draco couldn't take much more of this, already he could feel the tension building up inside him. He knew if she didn't stop with this behavior, he was going to take advantage of the situation and that wasn't something he had planned on doing. Not with her.

He released her wrist, moved to push her away but paused before doing so. He'd decided he didn't need to do what his body was telling him to do. She was drunk. She was his assistant. And worse than anything else, she was Hermione Granger, a mud blood.

He then tried to push her away, but she, having learned a thing or two from his previous actions, grabbed him by both wrists and pulled him toward her. Just as their bodies collided, Hermione's lips crashed into his.

For a few brief seconds Draco had the thought to push her away again, but her lips were too soft, too enchanting. Then those thoughts were pushed to the back of his mind and replaced by the thought of her bare breasts. He wanted to see them unbound and free of fabric possibly more than he wanted to take his next breath.

In return to Hermione's kiss, he parted his lips and granted her tongue entrance. It was no surprise to him that she took his offer and slid her tongue against his. Draco pulled his arms free from Hermione's hands and placed his left hand on the lower part of her back and his right on the back of her neck.

The kissing game was played for several steamy minutes until Draco had had enough and twirled her around against his desk. He broke away from her lips and cleared the notes, file folders, and other office décor from his desk in one swift movement. When everything had fallen to the floor, he grabbed a handful of Hermione's brown curls and pushed her lips to his once again.

In the heat of the moment, Draco realized he was rock hard and would like nothing more than to throw Hermione up on his desk and take her right then and there. Thinking it was best to let Hermione know what she was doing to him, he ran one hand down her back as he kissed down her jaw line and toward her ear lobe. He grabbed a handful of her right butt cheek and pushed her pelvis forward into his.

It was at this moment, she realized he wanted her as much as she wanted him. If it hadn't been for his prominent erection, which was pressing into the area between her naval and her nether regions, and his nibbling on her ear, she may never have realized it. Feeling the hunger building inside her, she let out a soft moan and ground her hips into his.

That was it. It was on now.

Draco grabbed Hermione by the waist and roughly slammed her down on the top of his desk. He climbed atop her and again crushed her lips with his. His kiss was surprisingly passionate to Hermione. Never had she ever experienced such a rush of emotions in just a kiss, not from any of her previous lovers. But before now, she had never kissed someone she hated this much. Draco Malfoy was the last person she would have ever thought would be on top of her.

Hermione's hands roamed every inch of Draco's body as she pulled him down, nearer to her. Her mind was screaming for her to leave right then but her body was telling her to stay. She wasn't exactly sure what she was doing with him, but something inside her told her she wouldn't regret this night. Her hands finally reached his belt and her fingers struggled with the metal to loosen its grip on the fabric of his pants. Once she had the buckle undone, she unbuttoned his pants then unzipped them and slid her hand inside them. She massaged his massive erection for a few seconds before he leaned back and pulled her hand out of his pants.

His actions only confused her for a second before she realized what he was doing. He pushed down his black pants and his boxers and freed his member from its constraints. She had been relatively sure he was well endowed but it wasn't until she actually saw his size that she was positive. She marveled at the size of his penis for only a moment until Draco slid one hand up the bottom of her dress. To his surprise, she wasn't wearing and panties; this was going to be an easy task to accomplish.

He adverted his eyes from her hips up to her breasts. After watching them rise and fall with her rapid breathing for only a second or two, he moved on to her face. Her cheeks held a rosy pink color which he contributed to her being ready for him. He smirked and removed the hand that was massaging her nether lips and brought it up to the laces at the top of her dress. He ripped open the laces which caused her breasts to spring free of their captor. They were more beautiful than he had imagined.

Instinctively he leaned forward and took her left breast in his right hand then placed his mouth around her nipple. Hermione let out a loud moan as he began to suck on it and flick his tongue at its hardness. Hearing the groan Draco kissed up her chest and around to her ear.

"Do you want me, Granger?" He whispered.

Hermione closed her eyes, "Merlin, yes, Malfoy! Yes!"

"Say it. Tell me you want me." He hissed.

Hermione couldn't take much emore; the tension building up inside her was threatening to make her explode. "I want you! I want you, Malfoy."

Without warning, Draco thrust himself hard into Hermione. She was taken aback at the mixture of pleasurable pain and a muffled scream escaped her mouth as she bit down on her bottom lip. Her slight scream only made Draco's hunger for her increase. He loved the fact that a simple motion could extract such a reaction from a woman. And what he loved more was that he was in complete control of the situation, if he wanted to, he could make her scream all night.

Draco thrust himself deeper into Hermione with every movement of his hips, causing her to moan loudly every time. Her moans were music to his ears. They weren't like the fake moans from the countless sluts he had had sex with. These were true moans, ones with desire and meaning behind them. This truly was the first time in possibly years that he had felt like he was needed. He was doing the thing he was best at and he was being rewarded with the one sound he loved more than anything in the world, the sound of a moaning woman who would do anything just to get more of his love.

Hermione dug her fingernails deeper into Draco's muscular shoulders and lifted her hips to meet his with every movement. A feeling of ease and bliss washed over her whole body, one that she would do anything to never lose.

After ten minutes of forcefully thrusting himself into Hermione's moist core, Draco pulled her thigh high up on his side so he could hit that sweet spot. When he was happy with her position, he grabbed a fistful of her hair and pounded himself into her harder than before. His body dripped with sweat as his movements became faster. He wished he hadn't dressed so well this night. If only he didn't have so many clothes on.

Hermione's body gave an involuntary shake; she knew her climax was coming. She could feel it. Draco's grasp on her hair was a bit painful, but what's a little pain when there's so much pleasure to be had?

Seconds later Hermione's legs quivered violently as she screamed and climaxed. With one more hard thrust, Draco's seed spilled out into Hermione and he stopped moving. Hermione lay there breathing hard with her eyes closed as she felt Draco's weight grow lesser and finally it became nonexistent. He had gotten off of her.

Draco wiped the glistening sweat from his brow and pulled his pants up. Once he had fastened them and buckled his belt he turned to Hermione, who was still lying on his desk. He could just barely see up her thigh and caught a glimpse of the wonderful place he had just vacated. Then he noticed her bare breasts. The sight almost made him want to ravage her again, but he had had enough for the night. All he wanted was a release. It wasn't even really him that initiated the situation.

Hermione stood up from his desk and adjusted the bottom of her dress then began to lace up her top, covering up her breasts again. She couldn't bear to look at him. She didn't know what had just happened. Well, she knew, but she was trying to figure out why it had happened and a part of her didn't want to believe it.

"Thanks for the ride, Granger." Draco snarled.

Hermione's eyes shot up into the face of the man she had just been so intimate with, "excuse me?"

He smirked his infamous smirk, "What, do you want money? I didn't know you were_ that_ kind of woman."

Hermione huffed. She couldn't believe he was saying this now. "No, Malfoy, I don't want money."

"Ah, so you give it up for free, do you?" He retorted.

Hermione's mouth fell open as she glared at him. "I'm leaving," was all she could say.

Draco chuckled. "Get out then."

* * *

Hermione's flashback was interrupted by Draco's voice. "Granger! … GRANGER! Can you fucking hear me? I'm talking to you!"

Hermione shook her head, "I… I can hear you just fine, there's no need to shout."

Draco's smirk had long ago faded, now he sat in her bed with a blank expressionless face, just staring at her. "Do you care to tell me what exactly I am doing in this bed, with you in it as well?"

Hermione sat up against the headboard of her bed and pulled her blankets tightly around her. "I… er… I thought…"

Draco was beginning to get fed up with her fumbling with words. "You thought what? Have you gone completely stupid? Can you not form a sentence? Just tell me what the fuck you're playing at. Did I fuck you or not?"

Hermione always hated how straight forward he was with his words. If nothing else, she hated the way he said the word 'fuck' it made her feel like a whore. She may have slept with a few more men than she should have, but truly, she was not a whore. Though at times, she did feel like one, but that was because of Draco. He always had a way of making her feel worse.

She cleared her throat. "No, Malfoy, we didn't 'fuck' as you like to say. You were drunk, said some stuff, got sick, passed out, and now you're here. I put you here."

Draco pushed the blankets off of him and looked down at his bare chest. "And I am to suppose this happened by coincidence?"

Hermione shook her head. "No. When you got sick you messed your clothes so I had to take them off of you."

He stood up from the bed and swayed a bit before placing his hand on the post of the headboard. "Bet you liked that didn't you?"

"You are full of yourself." Hermione said under her breath.

"What's that?" Draco questioned his grey eyes piercing Hermione's.

"Nothing. I didn't say anything." She tried to cover up her comment.

"Right." He said as he took a few steps away from her bed.

He had to stop in his tracks because again, his head was spinning and the thought of getting sick again crossed his mind. He planted his feet on the ground and brought both hands up to his forehead. "I think I'm going to be sick."

Hermione leapt from her bed. She wasn't about to have a reenactment of what happened earlier in the night. "NO! Just here." She grabbed him by the arm, "Lay back down." She tugged at him until he finally gave in and retreated to her bed.

"I don't want to be here, Granger." He said as she pulled the blanket up to his chest.

Hermione frowned. "If it makes you feel better, I don't want you here. But want you to throw up in my house even less than I want you here."

Draco closed his eyes tightly. He was attempting to keep from getting angry. He didn't really like the fact that she had gotten in the last word. If he hadn't still been intoxicated, he would have been able to think of a come-back. As it were, he wasn't as quick witted as he normally was, so he opted to just not say anything.

Hermione rounded the foot of the bed and crawled back into her bed. "Seeing as how this is my house and my bed, I'm sleeping here as well. If you have a problem with it, you can go sleep on the couch. I'm sure Ginny would love to see you there."

She knew it would be a bad day if Ginny found him in the house, but she couldn't resist antagonizing him, especially since she knew he wasn't going to do anything to her. She loved the fact that when he was drunk he couldn't think of any smart ass remarks or even really move well. She wished he was drunk more often.

"Fine. Just don't touch me!" Draco sneered and rolled over on his right side so his back was toward Hermione.

She followed his motion. She rolled to her left side, "Fine. Just stay away from me!"

Draco didn't answer but Hermione hadn't really expected him to. She was rather glad he didn't say anything because her body felt drained and she didn't think she could have handled having a verbal row with him. She was always quick witted, but when she was sleepy it was an entirely different story.

Only about ten minutes after both Hermione and Draco had fallen silent, both of them were fast asleep. Hermione's last thought before slipping into dream land was, _'Why does he have to be such an ass hole and be so wonderful at the same time? He's not wonderful…Not to me.' _

She was right. Ninety percent of the time, he wasn't good to her. But there were times that he was. Most of these times were when she caught him off guard or like tonight, when he was drunk. But none the less, there were times when he wasn't so bad.

A/N: I do apologize for the long wait for this update, but this is my longest chapter on this story yet, so I hope you all enjoied it. And some credit is due to **dracotersexiness** for the flashback suggestion. I was thinking about going back in time (so to speak) but that gave me what I needed. Please do let me know what you think! Thanks to everyone for reviweing, and please continue to do so. As always, suggestions comments, everything else, welcome! Sway


	8. Chapter 8 Alone

Chapter 8

Alone

Three weeks had passed since Hermione had seen Draco outside of work. She wasn't sure if he was angry with her, or if he was just busy. One thing she could be sure of was if he was indeed mad at her, he would have shown her. That was more like him; he was more of a shower than a teller.

When she awoke the morning after he'd gotten drunk and stayed against his will, he was gone. He hadn't left a note, or even bothered to wake her upon his leaving. She wasn't really surprised though because she hadn't expected him to stick around. After their usual meetings, she made him leave so she guessed he was used to being pushed out the door and took it upon himself to be his own usher.

She thought all day, that day, about the things her mind had been telling her, the things she felt, and the things Draco had said, none of which made any sense to her. She was so confused but knew it was a good thing she didn't see him outside of work. That would only have complicated things more. She needed time away from him to sort through her emotions and figure out just what she was doing that night.

By this time, three weeks later, she'd sorted out the thing in her head and decided it was just a flaw she had, some genetic defect. Something stupid she made up to make herself feel better.

"Granger!" Draco yelled from his office.

Hermione sighed, she was in the middle of writing a report for him and she didn't want to be bothered with another report or anything else he would normally have her do. She knew though that she had to do whatever it was he wanted her to do, either that or lose her job. It was times like this; she wished she hadn't given up on her dreams.

She stood up from her chair and placed her quill in her ink well. As she turned to reach for the door knob, Draco yelled again. "GRANGER! GET IN HERE!"

Hermione scoffed. "I'm coming!"

She opened the door, instinctively shut it behind her and strolled toward his desk, stopping midway there. "What?"

Draco smirked. "I just wanted to see if I could still make you come."

Hermione rolled her eyes and shifted her weight from her left foot to her right foot. "Well, as it would seem, you can, so if we're done here, I'm going back to writing the report you gave me."

"No, no, don't go." Draco called after her as he stood from his seat.

Hermione paused mid-turn. _'What the hell?' _

She couldn't be sure, but she thought she heard a hint of sincerity in his words. Quickly, she dismissed the thought knowing it would only complicate things inside her head again. It wasn't a normal occurrence for Draco to ask her not to do rather than to tell her not to. But this, she was sure sounded more like a request than a command.

With her back to him, Hermione said. "What is it you want then?"

Draco didn't answer immediately; instead he glanced around the room. It seemed like he was trying to find an answer from one of the moving portraits or the ceiling, but sadly, he didn't find one.

Instead of formulating a good response, he said, "I just wanted to talk to you about the… er… that… report!" The last word in his sentence was more distinct than anything, as he was having trouble coming up with anything and 'report' was the only word that fit in.

Hermione spun back around to face him and looked at him with disbelief etched on her face. "The report? What's there to talk about, Malfoy? I know how to write out a standard request for incarceration. I've been doing it for a while, you know."

Draco huffed. "There's no need to get all shirty about it."

She clicked her tongue against her teeth, "Shirty? Shirty! What does that even mean, shirty? That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

"Oh, come now, you know what it means. You know, mad, huffy, irritated, irate… Shirty." He answered.

"I am not irritated! And I'm not shirty." She retorted defensively.

"Okay, maybe not irritated." He walked around the side of his desk. "Could it be…" slowly he advanced toward Hermione with his smirk firmly in place, "that, perhaps, you are…" Once he reached her, he extended one hand forward toward her face and cupped her cheek in his palm, "frustrated… sexually?"

She pulled away. "No! Absolutely not. I'm not sexually frustrated. You're not that great, I promise." She was lying through her teeth and she knew it, but she couldn't exactly tell him she thought he was a good shag. Couldn't, wouldn't, same thing.

He pursed his lips and dropped his hand to his side. "Don't lie to yourself, Granger, we both know how good I am. I bet you're going crazy from not having me, aren't you? You miss our time together, don't you, Granger?"

Hermione's face went blank. There was a bit of truth in his words, but she would never admit that she missed him. She wasn't sure if it was actually him, or being with him, that she missed, but neither she was willing to say aloud. "You're full of it."

"You think so? We'll see just how full of it I am when I don't come around anymore. We will see then how much you love it when I fuck you. Why don't you just say it? Just tell me you want it and I'll give it to you." He reached out for her again and puller her close to him.

Hermione filled her nostrils with his scent and pressed her face against his chest. "Is that what you want, Malfoy? Do you want me to tell you that I want you?"

Draco nodded and spoke in a soft, controlled tone, "Yes, Granger, say it. Tell me you want me. Just tell me what we both know you want."

Hermione closed her eyes and pressed her body against his. It had been so long since she'd had him and she wanted him more than she'd ever wanted anyone. She wasn't going to give in to him though, not this time, no matter how much she thought she wanted him. "No."

Draco shook his head in shock and pushed her away. "What!"

She stumbled from being pushed but once she regained her balance, she repeated herself. "No. I'm not going to say it."

She was being very daring to talk to him in a manner such as the one she'd chosen. They hadn't been together for three weeks and she had no idea how he was going to react to her words, but at this moment in time, she didn't care. She wasn't going to play his games. She'd played along for too long and she was tired of being his toy, tired of being dominated and taken advantage of.

She had to stand up for herself, it was evident no one else was. Draco certainly wasn't going to stop pushing her around due to the simple fact that he knew he could. Somewhere in the three weeks she'd been free from Draco's hold, she found a small part of the old Hermione, the one who stood up for herself and her friends, the fearless, adventurous, know-it-all, Hermione.

Her finding herself was a good thing for her, but perhaps it wasn't for Draco.

_Draco's POV _

I can't formulate a reason that I've taken leave of Granger for so long. I've started to go over there so many times but just not gone. I don't know what's happening but I know it isn't going to be good. I've held onto these damned family traditions far too long. It makes me sick to my stomach when I think about the fact that I'm fucking a Mud blood. But really, what the fuck is that? Why does it matter? She is just as good with magic as I am, and I hate to admit it but she could even be better. Well… Could have, she isn't good for much more than shagging anymore.

The death of her parents really turned her around. As much as it pains me to say it, she could have done anything she wanted if she'd just stuck to her ambition. She could have been where I am, she could have been a healer, an Auror, shit, she could have taught at Hogwarts. But when they died, she changed. I can't say it wasn't unexpected though. I knew as soon as I saw her once Dumbledore told her the news; she wasn't ever going to be the same. I suppose things happen for a reason, but that, her parents dieing, what good did that do? I'm not going to say it concerns me that she's turned out like she has, because that would label me with caring about her, which I don't, but I will say, I for one, never would have thought she'd end up shagging me behind her friends backs. I've always wanted to see what it was like between her legs, but I never thought it would happen. It sickens me to know that I came after the whole Weasel family and Potter, but at least I've lasted this long. The way I see it, if she's fucking me she's not fucking them or any other bastard; which in turn keeps her from possibly contracting something even magic can't fix. I'm doing her a favor. Yeah, I am doing her a favor.

Why does she make me think these things? What is it about her that keeps me so close? Why does she have such a hold on my balls? I can't take this shit.

Let me start from the last time I saw her.

It was that Sunday morning when I woke up, with a bad hangover, that I remembered exactly what I'd said the night before. I remember telling her I wanted her out, and I remember her telling me it was her house, and then my telling her she was in my chest. My heart, to be more specific. I remember acting like a child, vomiting, then it's all a blank up until I woke up and was annoyed that she'd moved me to her bed.

But what I don't remember is why I did any of this.

I knew at the moment I took that fist drink of fire whiskey, that it wasn't a good idea, and the way in which the events of that night unfolded are my proof. I knew better than to get drunk and go see her, especially since I've been having such a problem with my thoughts. But, because I'm a Malfoy, I did it anyway. That's the thing about Malfoy's, we do what we like without concern or regard for the consequences. Sometimes, though, we, or I, should think about the things I do before I do them. I think that could possibly solve most of my problems before they start.

Regardless of what happened and how it came about, I remember getting dressed and leaving quietly through the front door.

I avoided her at all cost at work and refused to let myself leave the house after that. I had to think about things. And in all honesty, I knew going over there and fucking her would only complicate things more for me.

I don't understand why I doubt my actions with her. We are fuck buddies, nothing more. It's not like we're an item. We're not in love, we're not getting married. We will never be any of these things. It's just not probable.

She has a problem and I fix it for her. That's all there is to it. The end.

I suppose, the real reason I've stayed away from her is because I don't want to feel the things I am feeling. But I can't even put a name with these feelings. I've never been one for emotions anyway, why start now?

Well, that's not entirely true. I know she makes me angry. Anger is something I've always been able to feel. I'm really not an angry man. I don't go and beat the shit out of just anyone because I can, no, that's not me. But when it comes to Hermione…. Damn… Let me rephrase, when it comes to Granger, I can't control my hands. It's like they have a mind of their own. When she makes me angry, I don't realize I've struck her until it's too late. I've wished so many times that I could just stop, but I can't. I don't want to hit her. I don't get off on it, I don't like to do it; it's just something I can't control. I know that's a lame excuse, but when it comes to that woman, I can't find a reason for any of the things I do. She makes me a train wreck.

I fuck her, yes, but I don't know why. I could have any woman I want, not because I'm that great looking, but because of who I am and how much money I have. Yes, being a Malfoy does have a bit to do with it, but the fact that I was among those that brought Lord Voldemort down is the main reason for my success with the ladies. Potter, Weasel, hell even Black and Lupin, could have anyone they wanted because of the same reason. I guess I'm not all that lucky, but I never said what I do with her was luck.

I think about her all of the time and it drives me mad. Why can't I get her out of my fucking skull? I've been down to the bottom of every bottle of fire whisky I can find, still, it doesn't help. If anything, my drinking makes matters worse. When I drink, I think about all of the ass hole things I've done and said to her and that makes me cringe. I know I'm an ass hole. But none of the things I've found out about myself get me any close to answers.

In the three weeks I've been away from her, all I thought about was her. I couldn't bring myself to shag anyone else, despite my efforts. I went out to the bars as often as I could and brought home countless bimbos but for some reason or another, I couldn't seal the deal. I was determined to get her out of my head, but then why did my efforts fail me? I knew if I shagged someone else, they would become my new conquest and she would become yesterdays 'Daily Profit' but I still couldn't do it.

I suppose it was desperation that caused me to call her into my office.

Yes, I, Draco Malfoy, have hit an all time low. I couldn't take not feeling needed any longer, I had to get her.

All I wanted was for her to tell me she wanted me, like she did when we first began this fucked up relationship. (I use relationship for lack of a better word, because I can't seem to find one that fits.) That's all I wanted her to do. I needed to hear it, but she wouldn't say it. I just wanted her to tell me I'm good for something, to show me that I mean something; I'm not here just to take up space. She couldn't give me that. She couldn't say it. Couldn't or wouldn't, I don't know.

She said, "No. I'm not going to say it."

If it was a normal day, one where I'd fucked her the night before, I would have been angry. I would probably have lost my temper and hit her again. But, it wasn't a normal day. None of my days have been normal. I didn't know how to react. I could let her see my face shatter. Hell, I didn't want to see my face shatter, but I knew that was what was going to happen, I could feel it.

_End Draco's POV_

For the first time in his life, Draco actually wanted to hit Hermione. He wanted to make her feel the same pain he was feeling at the moment when she refused to tell him what he wanted to hear. Despite the pain and anger he was feeling at the time, Draco quickly turned away from Hermione.

"Get out of my office." His voice barely audible as he spoke.

Hermione could hear in his words that he hadn't been playing a game with her like she thought he was. How was she to know? She wasn't used to being treated like a human being; she was more accustomed to being ordered around and treated like trash. She hadn't expected him to actually want her to tell him instead of merely toying with her.

Hermione parted her lips to say something, anything, but she couldn't find the words. She simply nodded, not that Draco saw this, and quietly left his office, closing the door behind her.

For a few long minutes, Draco stood in the same spot with his back to the door. He wasn't sure what he should have said or done but none of that mattered now. He knew Hermione didn't need him, she didn't want him. His one fear had been proven true. He was completely and utterly useless. His father had always told him this was so, but up until now, he'd never believed it.

After Hermione's refusal to tell him what he wanted to hear, his face fell and he hit his knees. He hadn't realized he was on his knees until his brain finally processed the pain his fall had caused. His knees stung and throbbed as he stood back up and glanced from wall to wall in his office. Not even the people in the portrait were visible anywhere. He was officially as alone as he had always felt inside.

A/N: Ok, here we saw a softer side of Draco and I'm not really sure that I like it. Please let me know what you think about this one. I think it is essential to the story but I could in turn change it to suit him more. I've tried very hard to keep both he and Hermione as in character as possible, which I've said many times, but let's face it. In this story, they are much older and we really don't know what they'd be like anyway. So, with saying that (please don't pelt me with rotten eggs) I do hope you all will give me your honest opinions up until now :) Sway


	9. Chapter 9 Dieing Inside

Chapter 9

Dieing Inside

Three days had come and gone since Draco and Hermione's last conversation, and Draco had done his best to stay away from her. He went so far as to send an owl to the Minister telling him that he, Draco, wouldn't be into work. The Minister assumed something major was wrong with Draco because it wasn't like him to not come into work, so he had no problem with the absence. The truth of the matter was Draco couldn't make himself stop drinking long enough to form sentences, or walk, so he had Theodore, his house elf, write out a letter and send it to the Minister. This was the only way he knew he was going to be able to deal with the last words he had heard from Hermione. He needed to just clear his head and think, but he was wrong in the assumption that drinking would help with any of this.

It was on the morning, or rather, the mid afternoon, when Draco woke up from a restless sleep that he realized what day it was. It was the exact date that he and Hermione had begun their relationship, eight months ago. Back on the twentieth of December, it was Christmas time, but that was all gone now. It was August now and the times he had heard countless times whatever he wanted Hermione to tell him were over. August also meant Hermione's parents were gone yet another year.

It was a possibility that this new bit of realization was the cause for his excessive drinking which began the second after he realized what day it was, not that it had stopped in his sabbatical from work. All he could think about was Hermione's refusing to tell him what he needed to hear. Her words seemed to echo inside his head and caused a sort of heaviness in his chest. At the time, back in his office that day, he passed it all off as him just being too needy, but the truth in the matter was, not only did he want her to tell him he was wanted, he needed her to say it. There was a difference. Usually he played mind games with her, making her do or say anything his twisted mind could think of, but he hadn't done that in ages. It had been at least a month possibly a month and a half since he'd played games with her. Surely she noticed this, he sure had.

It is said, in life, if you're told something long enough, you are bound to believe it. And that's just what happened in Draco's life. Throughout his entire child hood, his father constantly reminded him how worthless he was and what a disappointment he was going to be. It wasn't that Lucius was being mean; he honestly believed these things were true. He, Lucius, grew up the same way he chose to raise Draco; his father did the same things to him. The only alternative Lucius could find was his marrying a beautiful, pure blood, witch, having a son, and becoming allies with the most powerful dark wizard of the time, which just happened to be Lord Voldemort. But none of this held any comfort for Draco; still his heart was heavy with the thought that his father had been right. He, Draco, would never amount to anything, he would never feel love, or be loved. He would never be a great wizard or be put in the history books. The Malfoy family line was going to end with him and it was all because he was worthless.

He had so much he wanted to say, so many things he was feeling and no way of sharing them. He knew it was wrong for him to be with Hermione, but he wanted her. He wanted to be with her and he wanted her to want him. Only when he was drinking was his pain dulled. For the first few months, he didn't know where that pain came from, but later, more recently, he realized just what caused his pain. She was using him. She was only using him to dull the pain she felt and that was what angered him the most. Though his anger was only a cover up for the pain he felt within. He had used people more than he would like to admit, but never had he been the one that was being used. Finally, he was on the other side of the fence and he saw just how wrong and hurtful it was. He would never say it aloud, but he was dieing inside, longing to be the one and only man Hermione wanted. He wanted so badly to tell her these things, for her to understand, for her to have the same feelings, but he had convinced himself, this would never happen. It was wrong, all of it, but he was so accustomed to being with her the way he was, he was scared to change any of it. She had hurt him more than anyone ever had, this included his father and mother, and really, he knew, she hadn't meant to do it. Hell, he hadn't meant for it to happen, it just did. And that, was the one thing he hated the most.

* * *

Draco grabbed the half empty bottle of fire whiskey from his bedside table and rolled out of bed, almost falling on the way. He stumbled across his large bedroom and literally fell out his bedroom door. As his face smacked the hard wood, he realized he had fallen on top of the bottle he had clutched in his left hand, and it had broken. He groaned as he lay there only just feeling a slight pang in his stomach. He couldn't find it in him to get up off the floor though he knew he needed to. He wasn't sure how badly he'd hurt him self, but judging by the little bit of pain he was feeling, it wasn't that bad.

For ten minutes or so, he simply lay there just as he fell; face down with his left hand underneath him, still clutching the broken fragments of glass, which once made up the neck of the bottle, and his right arm above his head. Instead of trying to get up by himself, he called for his trusty house-elf. He obviously wasn't doing very well moving himself anyway, so help was more than welcome, for once.

"The--- Theodore!" He yelled, his words slurred slightly.

Within a few seconds Theodore appeared with a slight pop. "Yes, Master Draco, sir, how may Theodore help you?"

Draco groaned. He knew the little house-elf hadn't seen him, mainly because as soon as he appeared, he bowed down and hadn't yet looked up.

When Draco's only answer had been a groan, Theodore looked up and clasped his hands over his mouth. "Oh my dear Master! What has happened to him, Theodore wonders."

"I've… Fa—fa—fallen, Theo---dore" Draco answered, pointing out the obvious because to be truthful, house-elves weren't always the brightest of magical creatures.

The little elf scurried closer to Draco's side and his eyes widened as he gazed over Draco's body. He reached out one scrawny arm and touched the floor near Draco's right side then gazed wide-eyed down at his hand. "Master, sir, is hurted, isn't he? Theodore wonders what to do. Theodore does not know how to make use of the healing, sir."

Draco wondered for a second what Theodore was going on about. He hadn't decided to try and move until he heard the words of his faithful house-elf. The poor little guy sounded so concerned, though that's what they were supposed to do. Draco slowly turned his head to his right, toward Theodore, and followed his eyes to his side. This was when he realized just how bad his wound was. The puddle of deep crimson liquid seemed to only grow in size as he continued to stare at it.

_'It's strange, I can't even feel anything. Sure, there's a little stinging, but nothing that I would think could cause a puddle like this one. Wouldn't it be ironic for me, a killer, to die here just as I lay? I wonder what she'd do. Would she feel remorse or just keep living?'_

His thoughts made more sense than his words had in days, so often he didn't speak out loud. He preferred to keep his thoughts in when he was alone. Normally he wouldn't speak many of his thoughts but around Hermione, he had no control over them. None the less, he was interrupted by his worried house-elf.

"Master Draco, Theodore needs to know what to do, sir. Theodore has magic but Theodore is not able to fixed this."

Draco continued to stare at the growing puddle of liquid, temporarily mesmerized by the color and how it seemed to have a mind of its own. He thought only briefly about telling the house-elf to do nothing, but then realized he didn't want to die. Not today, not like this. He wanted to go out in a blaze of glory, after all, he wanted his life to amount to something, even thought he knew he was fighting a losing battle, and thus far, he had nothing to show for his twenty some odd years.

He finally spoke the only words he could think to say. After all, it wasn't as if he had any friends anymore, those that weren't dead or in Azkaban, wouldn't talk to him anyway and healers weren't his favorite people. "G—g—get Granger."

* * *

_Hermione's POV _

I don't know what the matter with Malfoy is; I haven't seen him in days. The Minister told me that he sent an owl with a note that said he would be out of work for a while. But that's not like him. Malfoy doesn't miss an opportunity to make money; I suppose that was bred into him. I must say, it is a bit lonely around the office without him, not that I really miss his smart ass attitude and that damned smirk. I don't really ever see anyone else because we're so far back; even though he never has any thing nice to say, I still miss his words. Only now the Minister has had me doing Malfoy's job. It's a relief not to have to be at his ever beckon and call, but something seems to be missing.

I can't help but think his missing work has had something to do with me. I will never forget the look on his face the last time I saw him. He looked so… so… hurt. If ever those cold grey eyes could get colder, I think that was the day it happened and I'm the one that caused it. How was I supposed to know he wanted me to say it? I mean sure, any time he asked me to say something like that it was because he wanted me too, but this time I don't think it was a game. I can't help but feel responsible for all of this. I know he doesn't treat me like Harry treats Ginny, but then again, what do I expect? I'm not like her and I never will be. I'm filthy. There's something wrong with me, that's all. And if Malfoy is willing to look past that in our time together, then so be it. I'm never going to be anyone anyway, so why should I care how he treats me? I deserve all of this. And really, he's nicer to me than most other people would be. He's not all bad all of the time.

* * *

I have been thinking about the last time I'd been with Malfoy all morning and well into the afternoon when my thoughts were interrupted by a soft popping sound. I looked up from my temporary gaze into space and saw the smallest house-elf I've ever seen, standing across my living room. He was doing more of a bowing motion than actually standing, but that's what they usually do. Odd creatures, house-elves.

"Miss Granger, ma'am?" The tiny creature croaked.

I nodded before I realized he couldn't see my head move. "Yes. And you are?"

The house-elf raised his head and stood shaking his hands then wiped them on the ragged old pillow case he wore like a toga. That was when I saw streaks of a dark liquid which looked brown appear. "Theodore's name is Theodore, Miss. Theodore serves the noble house of Malfoy. His master is hurted and has called for Miss Granger. He is in need for help, ma'am."

I could feel the blood vanish from my face as Theodore's words sank in. What was he saying? Malfoy is hurt? What? "What? Why? He asked for me?"

Theodore nodded and his overly large ears flopped down into his eyes. "Yes, Master has called for Miss Granger. Please hurry, Miss, he is hurted and Theodore does not think Master will live."

I jumped up off of my couch as he finished his words and rushed to the table I keep my wand in. Stuffing it into my pocket I said, "Okay. Take me there."

What was I supposed to do, leave him there? If there is one thing I know for sure, it's that Malfoy would never call upon me unless he was in dire need. I assumed by the trembling in Theodore's voice that he was hurt badly and I knew what I had to do.

* * *

Once I had taken the house-elf's small hand, it was only a matter of seconds before we popped into a dimly lit hall way, presumably in Malfoy Manor. I can't see much through the darkness but as I strain further I can distinctly see Malfoy's white blond hair shimmering some distance from me. He appeared to be lying on the floor, not moving, if I didn't know better I would think he was already dead.

"Malfoy!" I shouted down the hallway.

My voice echoed throughout the empty house for what seemed like an eternity before I heard a groan. I recognize that groan, having only heard it a few times in my life. That single sound told me all I need to know.

Bad thoughts swarmed my mind as I ran down the hallway toward him. All I could think about was him dieing. Him dieing just like my parents did and me not being able to help him either. I can't let him die. This can't happen to me again. I won't let it. He may be an insufferable git at times, but he's all I've got. And really, I don't even have him.

Falling to my knees beside him, I finally realize just how bad he's hurt. The puddle of blood around him reached at least two feet on each side and soaked into my pants as I knelt there. What's a little blood anyway? I have to save him. I have to do something.

"Malfoy." I said.

He didn't answer me in words, only with another weak groan.

"Malfoy! Answer me!" I screamed as I gingerly placed my hand on his left shoulder.

Again, he groaned.

Ugh! I can't see anything in here. I don't know where that house-elf has gone and I don't know how to get any more light into this damned hall. "Lumous!"

With the spell, every torch in the hall flickered and ignited. In this light, I can see the blood is very thin and Malfoy is paler than usual. He must be losing more blood than I can see. Cautiously I placed both of my hands under his left side and said, "Malfoy, I'm going to roll you over. I'll try not to hurt you but I'm not promising anything."

This time he didn't even groan. That's not a good sign.

His body slipped a few times as I struggled to roll him over onto his back. Perhaps this wasn't the best idea. Once he was on his back, I could see just where he's been hurt. There's blood stained glass every where. He's got his fist clenched and I can now see more glass in it. His torso looks like some one's idea of what a human pin cushion would look like, there's glass and blood everywhere. What the hell is this? What was he doing? It doesn't matter. All I know is I have to do something and fast.

But what am I supposed to do? Yeah, I studied healing but that was a long time ago…

_'Come on, Hermione, think damn it! Cuts and abrasions… scratches… puncture wounds… Okay, a simple mending charm…Shit, don't fail now. You can't let him die, not like mum and dad. This is your chance to prove you aren't worthless! Damn it… mending… healing… growth… extraction spells… Ah ha!' _

I have to first move his hand and pull out all of the glass. Ugh. That's gross. But I can't mend the wounds with the glass in them, that wouldn't work well.

Pulling out the glass wasn't as difficult as I had anticipated. It comes out fairly easily and he's not making any fuss about it. It was much like simply taking an egg from a carton, but in this case the eggs were glass and the carton just happened to be someone's body. So far there's been seventeen pieces and I can only see a few more. Just a few more.

* * *

About five minutes and twenty four long jagged pieces of broken glass later, I finished my first task. Now all I need to do is the charm. I pulled my wand out of my pocket and pointed it at Malfoy's stomach, "Emmendo-reparo!"

A jet of purple light emerged from the tip of my wand and hit Draco in the stomach. His body jerked then the cuts and puncture wounds began to glow a bright white and miraculously vanished. The blood is still there covering his jeans and what's left of his shirt, but the wounds are gone. Still, he looks very pale, more so than usual.

I shook his shoulder lightly and stroked his shimmering white blond hair, "Malfoy?"

His eye brows did a sort of bow on his forehead as his eyelids fluttered for a few moments then finally became merely slits in his skin. "Mmm."

I sighed. He's alive. "Thank Merlin." I whispered.

_End Hermione's POV

* * *

_

Hermione instructed Theodore, who still stood in the very spot he and Hermione had appeared, to go and get her some wormwood, root of ginger plant, pumpkin juice, and nightshade, which were all common in a wizard's house. The house-elf bowed and scurried out of sight. The purpose of having these ingredients was so she could concoct a mixture she was sure would heal the insides of Draco's body as well as help his body produce blood quicker. She was positive this would work, there just wasn't any other outcome, it had to work and he had to live.

With in seconds Hermione was on her feet and had her wand pointed at Draco's body. She muttered an incantation under her breath causing his body to immediately rise into the air. She guided him into the doorway, which he had fallen from, and laid him to rest on the bed. By the looks of the room, he had been spending much of his time in there and she was sure he wouldn't mind the move. The interior of the room was literally covered with empty bottles and small scotch type glasses. It was finally clear to her why he hadn't been at work as of late. She pointed her wand at him one more time before pulling the blankets up over him, causing his blood coated clothes to vanish and be replaced by only a pair of black pajama pants. Once his blankets were in place, she decided to let her curiosity get the best of her. She walked back toward the doorway to take a better look at the fragments of broken glass she had only just extracted from Draco's body.

Upon bending down to examine the glass shards, she muttered yet another incantation which made all of the blood disappear, including that which covered the glass. She picked up several pieced of glass in her hands and knew instantly by the black label and white writing, it had been a bottle of fire whiskey. He had almost died because of a wretched bottle of fire whiskey!

She sighed loudly and tossed the glass back to the floor disgusted. She knew he drank but never would she have thought his drinking would endanger his life. It was obvious he had a problem and maybe just maybe that problem was her. She agreed with her self, sure it was a freak accident that almost cost him his life but if he hadn't been so incredibly intoxicated it would not have happened. Without warning, her legs gave out under her and she crashed to the ground, consumed by guilty tears.

As she sobbed she thought, _'This is entirely my fault. He only drinks when something has happened between us. How could I have been so cold to him? If he had died it would be on my conscience. How did I let it get this far? And why do I affect him so? This is so like him, always doing the stupid thing.'_

Before she could finish her train of thought, Theodore's small feet patted their way down the hallway toward her. She didn't want the little house-elf to see her crying; quickly she suppressed her sobs and wiped her eyes fiercely with the back of her hands. When Theodore reached where Hermione sat on the floor, he screeched to a halt and offered her the things he held in his hands. Sure enough, he'd gotten the things she had asked for.

"Will Miss Granger need anything more from Theodore this day, Miss?" Theodore asked as he bowed humbly at her.

Hermione stood to her feet and brushed the dust from her pants with her one free hand, "No, Theodore, thank you. You have been much help to me. Your master is going to be just fine." She gave him a weak smile, hoping he believed what she had said more than she did.

Theodore stood straight up and stared at her for a long few seconds. Just when Hermione was becoming confused, a wide grin covered Theodore's face. "Thanks you Miss Granger ma'am. Theodore isn't good for nothing but he thanks you."

Upon ending his sentence, Theodore bowed again and snapped his finger and disappeared. For a few seconds after the little house-elf had disappeared, Hermione stood simply staring at the spot he had been standing at. It amazed her that he did have magic but had come to get her when his master was hurt. Maybe the levels of magic in house-elves varied, she didn't know. This wasn't the time to try and figure it out though, she had things she needed to do.

* * *

Four hours had passed since Theodore had called upon Hermione for help and still she sat in Malfoy Manor in a chair beside the bed in which Draco lay. She had administered the potion she made from the ingredients Theodore brought to her, every hour. She could only barely see a change in Draco's color, but a little change was better than no change at all. As she sat in the chair, almost asleep, she heard the slight sound of Draco stirring in his bed. Slowly she opened her eyes and stared onto Draco's pale pointed face.

His eyebrows did a sort of dance on his forehead and his hands twitched on his chest. She thought for a second he was dreaming though she had never seen him move in his sleep. Honestly other than the one time back some weeks ago, at her house, she'd never really cared to watch Draco sleep. For some reason though, it seemed much more appealing to watch him than to try and get back to sleep. As it seemed, the more she watched him, the more he moved in his sleep. First his hands twitched then his legs a few times the corners of his mouth seemed to want to form their all too familiar smirk, but failed.

Deciding to try and wake him to give him his potion, Hermione placed one hand on the side of his face and caressed his cheek, "Malfoy? Are you awake?"

Draco groaned in his sleep and his eye brows furrowed. "G---G—ranger?"

Hermione smiled to herself, "Yes, it's me, Malfoy. I need you to open your eyes. You have to get up and take some of this potion. You aren't strong but this will help."

Draco's eyes fluttered then opened halfway, revealing just enough of that silvery grey. "Better?" He asked.

Again Hermione smiled. "Much better. Now here, you will need to sit up."

Draco struggled to push himself up into a sitting position on the bed as Hermione had instructed him to do. The pain he felt now, in his abdomen was very real. So much so that he actually let out a whimper. "Granger, I—I—don't think I can."

"Oh, don't be silly." She said as she leaned forward to help pull him up on the bed.

He scoffed trying to suppress the shooting pain in his abdomen as Hermione struggled with him to sit him up. He wasn't exactly trying to help her move him due to the pain he was feeling, which did make it more difficult. Once she had him sitting the way she wanted him, she propped him up with a few of the extra pillows on the bed and pulled his blankets up around his waist.

"Here, drink a bit of this; it will make you feel better." She said handing him a goblet of her pumpkin juice potion.

Draco crinkled his nose as he took the goblet and looked down into the muddy brownish grey substance. "What the hell is this?"

Hermione half rolled her eyes, "It's a potion that will aid your body in producing blood quicker. Judging by the puddle I sat in, you lost quite a bit. Now drink up." She sounded almost bored with him. But this could have been because she thought it was obvious what she had handed him. He should have known it was something to help him.

Draco eyed the liquid for another minute or so before taking a sip of it and immediately spitting it out, causing it to turn into tiny droplets and spray about the room. "UGH! That shit is nasty!"

Hermione laughed, "Well, yeah. You've been injured enough; I would have expected you to know that almost anything that helps you mend isn't going to taste wonderful. Now just hold your nose and drink it."

Draco narrowed his eyes at Hermione as he held his breath and drank down the entire goblet. Even though he had held his breath the after taste got him. He gagged which in turn caused his abdomen to ache again. It seemed, he couldn't do anything at the moment without causing himself some kind of pain.

Hermione hadn't yet asked him about what happened and had almost decided not too, but she was angry about it and the anger won. She knew he had been drinking and he had fallen on a bottle but what she didn't know what why he had done any of it. "So, Malfoy, just what the hell were you doing to hurt yourself like that?"

Draco leaned toward his bedside table and nosily put down his goblet. When he straightened up in bed, he glared at Hermione and gave her a bit of a crooked smirk. "What's it to you, Granger? It's not like you care anyway."

Hermione gave a disgusted scoff, "You wouldn't ever let anyone care about you so what if I did? Besides that's irrelevant to what happened today. Malfoy, I know it was a fire whiskey bottle that cut you like that. What the hell were you thinking? I don't even see how something like that happens."

Draco grunted. "Why should it matter?"

Hermione's eyes widened and she drew in a deep breath before attempting to speak to him again. "It matters, Malfoy, because I'm the one that's had to come here to fix you. And it was a stupid thing to do. What would you have done if I hadn't come? Would you have called one of you other sluts?"

He clenched his jaw and spoke through gritted teeth, "I suppose I would have died if you hadn't come. And I didn't do it on purpose.Like you give a FUCK anyway!"

It was more than obvious in his voice that Hermione's questions were getting the better of him. His anger was building. He had had so much on his mind since he's last seen or spoken to Hermione and it was all flooding back. He wanted to scream at her, he wanted to tell her just what he was thinking. But he knew that wouldn't help things. If she hadn't been willing to tell him one simple thing, why would she give a damn about what he had to say today?

Then it occurred to him. She was mad. If she didn't care about him even the slightest bit, she wouldn't have come to save him, she wouldn't be angry, and she sure as hell wouldn't sill have been there.

Hermione was trying to formulate a response but instead of it being her turn to speak, Draco took over again. "Look, Granger, I called you because I knew you could help. I know all about the courses you took back at Hogwarts. I know about your wanting to be a Healer. I know more about you than I think you know. And that's why I called you. But the thing that really gets me is that I've told you, you're the only slut for me." Just as he finished that last bit, he saw Hermione's face fall and decided he didn't want to insult her, not after all that she had done. He had to rephrase, rethink what he wanted to say.

After a long pause in conversation, he continued this thought. Again he cut in front of her statement. "Let me back up. Hermi--- Granger…"

This time it was Hermione that cut him off. She wasn't sure about what her question but it had taken her by surprise and she had to ask. "What was that, Malfoy? Did you just almost call me Hermione?"

He pursed his lips and decided to ignore her question. Clearing his throat, he continued, "As I was saying. Granger, you were the one I called because I am not fucking anyone else. There wasn't anyone else I could have called even if I wanted to. I don't have any friends because they are either dead or in Azkaban, or, I'm too much of a prat. I wouldn't call anyone of those assholes we work with and I don't do healers, so, you were the only choice. If you hadn't come, I would be dead and that would have been it. What do you want me to say? If you tell me what, I will say it because I am truly at a loss here. I, unlike you, would tell you anything you wanted to hear. Do you even know what day it is?"

She was at a loss for words. She had heard every word he'd just spoken but none of it seemed to want to process in her brain. The only thing she did properly catch was his last statement. Yes, she did know what day it was but she would never have thought he would have remembered or that it would matter to him. He had remembered the day and not only that but he had just admitted he was a prat and also he told her she was his first choice. She hadn't been last, or told that she was last, not this time. He almost apologized for calling her a slut, again, and he no longer sounder the least bit angry. What was happening?

After all that had happened, every foul name, every beating, every snide comment, Draco Malfoy, for the first time, possibly, ever, sounded like he truly meant his words. He wasn't threatening her. He wasn't playing games. There was no fire behind those grey eyes; his smirk too was missing in action. Hermione thought only for a moment that she was dreaming or possibly even died in her sleep. This all seemed too good to be true.

Draco huffed at Hermione's lack of response. "Well, come on then, out with it. What do you want from me? I know it's a tough question, but surely you of all people can think of an answer. If you want me to fuck you right here right now, come on; let's do it. If you want me to tell you that you're soding beautiful, then you are. If you want me to tell you how much greater you are at everything than I am, well, I'm telling you now. Just tell me what to say. I can't play these games anymore; it's killing me, Granger. I can't do it. You're killing me, turning my insides to mush and it's more than I can handle. Just damn tell me what to say, please!"

Hermione's brown eyes sparkled as she gazed at the man sitting directly in front of her. He didn't resemble a monster anymore; his voice no longer sent shivers down her spine. Finally, for the first time, he looked human to her. "First of all," she said as she rose from her seat and sat down on the edge of Draco's bed. "I want you to…" she extended her right hand and cupped Draco's cheek, "to call me Hermione. Just say it."

Draco nodded as he continued to stare into her never ending chocolate eyes. He hadn't intended on saying all of the things he had said to her, but he couldn't take it anymore. He knew he couldn't take back his words no matter how he wished it was possible. There was only one thing he could do and that was exactly what he said he would do.

He cleared his throat and continued to stare at her as he spoke. "Okay, Hermione."

She smiled. Never had she ever heard her first name escape his lips. The sound alone, she thought, was enough to make the ice caps melt. She leaned forward so she was only inches from Draco's lips. For several long moments they simply stared into each other's eyes, neither of them daring to blink for fear of missing something. Without taking her eyes off his, Hermione leaned closer to him and placed a soft, meaningful kiss on his lips. Just as quickly as her lips met him they were gone. Before Draco knew what had happened, Hermione stood from his bed and turned her back to him, she was walking away.

As she walked nearer to the door she said, "I've left the potion on your table. Drink that goblet full every hour for the next six hours and you will be fine." Upon reaching the door, she opened it and exited without another word.

Draco couldn't believe what had just happened. So many emotions pumped through his veins, emotions he couldn't control. He'd given into what his heart was telling him to do and all she wanted was for him to call her by her first name. Every bad thing he had ever done or said to her flooded his mind and quickly became too much for him to handle. Just as the tears filled his eyes the grabbed the goblet off his bedside table and threw it at the steadily closing door. When the goblet hit the door it smashed into a million tiny fragments of glass and he yelled, "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT HERMION!"

Hermione paused when the goblet hit the door and listened to its pieces scatter as they hit the ground. Draco's words echoed in her ears and covered the melodic sound of the scattering glass. Her eyes filled with tears and she finally came to terms with what exactly it was she wanted. Finding her voice was harder than she had ever anticipated but she knew it was there. Her tears clung to her black eye lashes and continued to stream down her face as she tried to answer him.

She spoke only loud enough for him to hear her words through the small crack in the door, "You, Draco, I want you." She sealed the small crack in the door and instantly appirated out of Malfoy Manor.

**THE END **

A/N: I want to thank everyone for their loyalty, reviews, and suggestions, you guys made this story possible. I do hope it wasn't a disappointment to any of you and would love to know exactly what you think. I do express my thanks to each and every one of you, even those who never reviewed. I am hoping I will get more feed back on this one than I have on chapters past, I think this was a great way to end the story but you all may not. Keep checking in because I plan on writing another story, but first I am determined to finish the one I started before this one (Union With a Slytherin). If you haven't read any of my other work, please do and let me know what you think. I'm always open to suggestions. My eternal thanks! Sway


	10. Epilogue

A/N: After many many months, and quite a few requests, I've finally released an Epilogue for this one. I do hope it meets the standards of all those who requested one. Please, if you've ever done one thing for me, do let me know what you think. Yours eternaly, Sway

* * *

**Last chapter**

As she walked nearer to the door she said, "I've left the potion on your table. Drink that goblet full every hour for the next six hours and you will be fine." Upon reaching the door, she opened it and exited without another word.

Draco couldn't believe what had just happened. So many emotions pumped through his veins, emotions he couldn't control. He'd given into what his heart was telling him to do and all she wanted was for him to call her by her first name. Every bad thing he had ever done or said to her flooded his mind and quickly became too much for him to handle. Just as the tears filled his eyes the grabbed the goblet off his bedside table and threw it at the steadily closing door. When the goblet hit the door it smashed into a million tiny fragments of glass and he yelled, "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT HERMION?!"

Hermione paused when the goblet hit the door and listened to its pieces scatter as they hit the ground. Draco's words echoed in her ears and covered the melodic sound of the scattering glass. Her eyes filled with tears and she finally came to terms with what exactly it was she wanted. Finding her voice was harder than she had ever anticipated but she knew it was there. Her tears clung to her black eye lashes and continued to stream down her face as she tried to answer him.

She spoke only loud enough for him to hear her words through the small crack in the door, "You, Draco, I want you." She sealed the small crack in the door and instantly appirated out of Malfoy Manor.

* * *

**Epilogue**

Years passed since the day Hermione left Malfoy Manor, four of them actually, and every day Draco thought about her, wished he could have said something, done something, anything to make her stay.

On the very day, just after she left Malfoy Manor and returned to her flat, Hermione owled the Minister and informed him that she would no longer be able to work under Draco at the Ministry of Magic. Minister Scrimgeour suggested that he simply transfer her to another department, perhaps one across the building from Draco where she wouldn't have to deal with him but he asked no questions. With a smile, she jotted down her reply to him. The reply was a simple: 'No thank you Minister Scrimgeour.'

At the time she wasn't at all sure how she was going to go about making money, but it didn't matter to her just then. All she knew was that she couldn't bear to have to look into those damned grey eyes every day. Not with the feeling she always got, not with all of the bad memories they brought. She was done.

* * *

And so four years later, Hermione sat down on her shabby brown couch with a warm cup of tea, and opened up her leather bound diary. Propping the diary in her lap she opened it to a fresh white page and began to write.

_'Things have changed so. I miss those people everyday, mum, dad, Harry, Ginny, even Ron sometimes. I can't change the things that happened, I know this, but I do wish everything had gone along differently. I was thinking today about the time after the war, about how much we all cared for those who had fallen, even the ones we'd killed. It had an effect on all of us, though some let it show more than others… _

_I thought about him today. I can't help missing the times we shared, and if that makes me crazy, then so be it. I suppose I'm crazy now. It's better to be crazy and alone than to just be alone, I think. I won't forget the look on his face the last time I saw him. I don't know what exactly the look was saying, but I have my theories. I sometimes hear him when I sleep, hear his words inside my head, and feel the warmth only he could give. I don't want to miss him anymore. I deserve so much better. I am a woman, not some toy to be used and abused, then discarded…' _

It was then; just after she'd written that last word 'discarded' that she realized at last, it was she who discarded him, not the other way around. She'd won his game, and had never seen it that way. Hermione Granger walked away from Draco Malfoy. As far as anyone knew, no female in Malfoy history had ever gotten away on their own free will. Sure some had simply been dumped off somewhere, and some disappeared, but not a single one had walked off freely.

A smile crossed her lips, one she hadn't noticed at the time, and she began to laugh. "I won! I beat the master at his own game!" Her laughing continued, though there was no one around to hear it.

* * *

Draco Malfoy had had many women, and many more in the last four years. Even at the age of twenty six, he was highly respected by the male population and highly desired by the female populations. Life for Draco Malfoy couldn't possibly be any better, could it? Every night, if he desired, he had a different woman, one he could say or do anything to and she would never complain, a woman whom he could completely dominate. Still, something was missing. Something inside him told him to stop playing these childish games, and find one woman to occupy his time. Since _she_ left he never gave another woman the satisfaction of ever being with him more than once. He wasn't one to make the same mistake twice.

The one thing Draco couldn't let go was the fact that she did actually leave him. After all the time they'd been participating in that little game, after all the times he'd seen her quiver under his words, and every time he watched her eyes shatter as he stared at her, she walked out. She seemed so weak, so frail and easily manipulated, but he was wrong. What he saw those almost five years ago when their relationship began, and what he was shown four years ago when she left, those were two different women. He wasn't sure what had caused her to change, or why it happened, and as much as it angers him to admit it, he was glad it did happen. He couldn't hurt her anymore.

* * *

_Draco's POV_

Another day, another damned case to be investigated, another report, another meeting with the Minister. Do things ever change? How is all of this going to help me with my life? How does any of this help me find sense of self? It's rubbish, complete and total rubbish. I don't have to be here, but then why am I? If I have the option to not work because I don't have to, why do I keep doing it?

Ah, the answer is stupid, I know the answer though. It's out of hope, anticipation, dreaming, wanting, yearning, wishing. Wishing that she will return, yearning for her touch, wanting to see her face one more time, dreaming about what could have been, anticipating the ending she deserves, and hoping she's forgiven me.

Why do I care? Why, heh that's easy, I care because it was my game and I lost. If I keep telling myself that, maybe I will start to believe it.

I stood up from my desk and began pacing my office, remembering every moment she'd been in here, remembering all of those fights, all of her tears, my yelling, and every time I'd hit her. I hate myself for being such an arse to her.

I need to get to work on that damned report; my new secretary isn't as easily pushed around as she was. No, Trista is definitely not as easily convinced, I have the sneaking suspicion that she may not play Quidditch on the right team if you know what I mean. I'm a handsome guy, I know this, almost irresistible even, and she hasn't given me the slightest bit of recognition. Usually, I would have already shagged her senseless and been done with it… So I've decided she's one of those witches who likes her own kind. But what do I know about any of that?

Knocking on my door awoke me from my mind, I grimaced, "What?"

A husky voice sounded from outside my office door, "I have these papers from the Minister, Mr. Malfoy." It was Trista.

Shaking my head I opened the door and extended my arm staring as far away from her face as I could. She's not exactly unattractive, but with a voice like the one she's got, you just don't want to look at her. "Just hand them here then."

I took the papers and closed the door as quickly as I could then cringed at the thought of Trista. Guh! She's really something, and I don't mean a good something.

What I wouldn't give to have Hermione out there instead of that beast. If I could just see her one more time, I'd apologize for everything I've ever done, everything I said… And the one thing I couldn't say.

_End Draco's POV

* * *

_

_Hermione's POV_

I finished writing my journal entry hours before, but at the moment I'm caught up in rereading a few of my older entries. It's astonishing, the things I've written, the things I'd been thinking when I wrote these entries, and all the emotion my writing shows. I didn't know I was capable of feeling so many different things at once.

When an entry, or even part of one catches my attention, I read it aloud, simply to help myself understand the words better.

"I've been gone now for three months and I haven't told anyone where I am. I don't think they care anyway. None of them could see just how badly I was hurting, either that or they just didn't want to have to deal with it. I won't forget the look on Ginny's face when I told her I was leaving. I gave no answers; it's none of their business anyway. I hope she's doing well. Or, better than I am. I sometimes wish Voldemort had killed me with my family, or that it was me who died instead of so many of my friends. Life would be better if I didn't have one anymore. Life. I don't have one now, what am I talking about? Malfoy made sure of that. As much as I wish I could hate him, I can't. The simple fact remains… I love…"

I laughed a bit at the last two words, even back when I first left him and all of my friends behind, I wouldn't say it. I still can't. It all seems so childish, so useless. There is no point in all of these written words if there's no one around to read them. Why did I waste my time, why do I still?

Skimming through another few pages, another entry catches my attention.

"I left him. I walked out because I knew there was nothing he could do, not from his place on that bed. I could have left him where I found him, could have watched him die. Why did I try so very hard for him? Why did I insist upon saving him? I could have stood there and watched him bleed, watched the great Malfoy die. But… I didn't. I couldn't. I know he wouldn't have done the same thing for me, but I think fooling myself into thinking that he would helps. At least it does for now."

Merlin! What was I thinking? I couldn't have just stood there and watched him die, that would have been the Malfoy thing to do, and I'm nothing like him. Okay, so maybe I was at one time, when I was with him, but I'm not now. I'm so much stronger than I ever thought I was. Sure, it still hurts to think about all of the nasty dirty things I did for him and with him, even before that, but seeing as how I'm past all of that now, I think I'm doing well. Though I'm sure there are a few people in the world who would beg to differ simply because I moved away and quit my job… But that's all in the past, I could move back if I wanted to. I just don't want to that's all.

I do miss Harry and Ginny, even Ron sometimes. I haven't seen them in ages. I should be well over all of the things Malfoy put me through, I should go back. I shouldn't have to stay in hiding, it doesn't help really. All my being alone gets me is bitterness and alone. Maybe a day trip is in order.

* * *

Draco arrived to his usual pub at a quarter past seven in the evening. He'd long ago gotten out of his office, bathed, dressed, and now he was standing in a dimly lit, smoke filled room. The crowd was the same as it always is on Friday nights, women all dolled up in clothes which are too tight, even for his liking, men with entirely too much product in their hair, and then the group of those who are looking for something particular. Draco tonight, was not a part of that group, so he decided to take a seat at the end of the bar, closest to the door. Once he sat down, he ordered himself a few shots of fire whisky and downed them quickly. The stinging feeling didn't affect him so much anymore, not in a very long time. He'd become used to the sensation and welcomed it often times. Draco, you see, is a creature of habit. He attends the same pub every chance he gets, talks to the same people, orders the same drink, and wishes that same tired wish.

About six shots of fire whisky later, Draco decided he'd better slow down, he wasn't willing to forget just yet. He turned himself on his stool and rested his back against the bar behind him so that he could survey the crowd dancing behind him. A sneer made its self visible as he gazed from faceless woman to faceless woman. None of them really mattered. They all looked the same really. Their tops too tight, their skirts too short, too much make-up, too little brains. Then dancing only a few meters away from him, he saw the back of a woman who resembled someone he couldn't quite place a name with.

The woman had bong curly dark hair and wore a scarlet dancing dress. Those curls seemed a bit farmiliar to him. Not thinking he stood from his seat, staggered a bit before straightening up and crossed the room to where the woman danced. Quickly he grabbed her by the arm and spin her around.

Right there in front of him stood that woman, her eyes doe like, in shock, and she simply stared at him, as he did her.

"Can I help you?" The woman asked.

Draco shook his head several times, "I apologize, I thought you were someone else."

The woman cocked an eyebrow at him and gave a saucy grin, "for the right price, honey, I can be anyone you want me to be."

Inside Draco vomited a little, the woman was ghastly, he wasn't sure she was even a woman now that he could see her face properly. "Thanks, but no thanks."

As he turned and walked away he heard her call something that sounded like, "your touch luck then," but really didn't think he was missing out on anything important.

Deciding he'd seen way too much for the night, he paid his tab, took one more shot, and left the pub. Sighing to himself, once outside the pub he thought, _'The things people do today.' _

It didn't seem to take long before he reached the front door of his empty mansion, immediately he regretted ever deciding to keep the house. He should have sold it, taken the money and moved far, far away.

By midnight, Draco was fast asleep in his usual armchair, beside his usual fire, with an empty bottle of fire whisky lying at his feet. Even now, his nights were mostly spent alone, he just didn't feel the need to have anyone any where near him. On those occasions when he did bring a woman home with him, he shagged her, thanked her, and showed her the door. That's just how things were. There was no connection, no interest really, only need. He needed to feel like he was needed, if that made any sense to anyone except him. That's all he ever wanted really.

* * *

The morning dawned bright and annoying for Draco. The light stung his eyes, blinded him even, and yet he stayed in his chair. It wasn't that he was unable to move, it was more that he was simply being lazy.

Knowing good and well he reeked of smoke and sweat, he finally decided to get up and ready himself for his day. There were actually a few things he needed to do. For one, he desperately needed to send out a few owls, and that was something he had to leave his house to do. When sending numerous letters and packages, it's best to visit an owlry.

He showered quickly and dressed in his traditional black slacks and black collared shirt. Tousling his blond locks he glanced in the mirror before him and smirked at himself. He was still as devilishly handsome as he remembered.

Draco hurried down the street, not really caring to apologize for bumping into people, or even look at the faces around him. No one mattered, why would he care to apologize to them, or notice them for that matter. He had already entered and left the owlry, visited his tailor, bought a pair of new dragon skin boots, and finally realized he hadn't eaten anything since lunch time the day before.

Glancing down the street on both sides, he settled on a small deli on the other side he often visited. That was one of the only places he ever gave a thought and the only reason for that as their rye bread. He crossed the street quickly and entered the deli which caused a faint tinkling noise somewhere behind the counter.

Quickly a small older witch appeared and smiled up at him. "Ah yes, Mr. Malfoy, what can I do for you today?"

Draco couldn't be sure but he thought he heard a gasp somewhere behind him, though at the time he could have cared less. He returned the old witches smile, "I'll take the usual."

She chuckled a bit, "you know we do offer other things."

"I know, but I'd like the usual, if you please." He retorted.

The witch shrugged and turned to the counter behind her to prepare his sandwich. Draco was familiar with the ways of this place and turned to take a seat at a table in the back corner of the place. Again, he saw a head of curly brown hair but this time, having learned from his experience in the pub, he decided to let it go, thinking, _Not every female with curly brown hair is her, idiot.' _

He sat himself down with his back almost in the corner of the walls behind him and quickly hid his face with his copy of _The Daily Profit._ Several minutes later he sensed, the way many people do, that someone had approached him and assumed it was the old witch with his sandwich. He folded his paper and placed it in him lap before looking up.

Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw at that very moment. Hermione Granger was sitting directly across from him, staring at him with the blankest look he'd ever seen. For what seemed like an eternity he simply sat there, staring at her, his mouth hanging slightly open, unable to say or think of much of anything.

It was she who broke the silence. "Hello Malfoy."

He gave a slight nod and finally realized how ridiculous he looked at that very moment. He quickly shut his mouth and replaced his vacant expression with the signature Malfoy smirk. Quirking an eyebrow he replied, "Granger."

Hermione swallowed hard. "I don't want this to be strange."

He didn't answer, he simply sat, smirking at her. Even when his plate floated through the air and landed on the table in front of him, he still said nothing. Hermione thought for a moment or two that he'd been frozen in time.

"I didn't mean to barge in on you like this." She said with a slight frown.

He shook his head. "Of course not."

"You know," she shifted in her seat, avoiding looking at him now, "I've only just come back into town, today was my first day back."

He scoffed slightly. "What brought you back here?"

Hermione dropped her head, "I was thinking about things in the past." She took his silence as a gesture to go on, "and I had something I thought I needed to say."

Draco nodded and placed his hands on the table in front of him, "Go on."

Finally she brought her eyes up to meet his. "Malfoy… Draco, I'm sorry."

His smirk faded, his eyes softened a bit, and his heart fell a bit. "Sorry? Sorry for what?"

"For never thanking you for helping me realize who I am." She smiled a genuine smile at him, and possibly for the first time in her life, did not fear the man sitting across from her, she admired him for everything he'd done to her. She admired him because without him she would never have ventured so far in her life, she would not be the woman she was sitting right there with him.

He grunted a bit, "Oh, is that all?"

Again she smiled, "No, that isn't all. Draco I…" This was where he cut her off.

"No… Hermione, I'm sorry. Everything I did, everything I said… I'm" he rubbed his hand from his forehead back through his hair then continued, "I'm sorry."

Hermione extended her hand across the table and placed it lightly atop his. "No," she grabbed his hand and tugged on it slightly, "look at me." When he complied she continued, "if it wasn't for you, I don't know where I'd be, probably dead. Draco, you showed me what it meant to live. You taught me that even when bad things happen in life, we all have ways of coping with them, ways of getting over the hurt. I forgive you for everything you've done. And I can only hope you forgive me as well."

This time, it was Draco who smiled. Had she really said that? Hell yes she had. But it wasn't over, not just yet.

She laced her fingers in his and gazed deep into his grey eyes. "I love you."


End file.
